


Queen's Sister

by princess_anna



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Musical References, Royalty, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-02 23:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17272772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_anna/pseuds/princess_anna
Summary: Unbeknownst to the world, she was with them throughout their stardom. As she waded on the surface of royalty, she had to constantly choose between what she loved and her family's wishes. She had to deal with two different queens.





	1. Lost Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine these actors play the roles:
> 
> Henry Cavill (earlier version) as Frederick Xavier  
> Skandar Keynes as Alexander Xavier

It was already early October 1972, and the university term had only just begun. It didn’t stop the band called Queen from performing though, as semester starters meant that college students and even those who weren’t were packing the pub for a last hoorah before they start seriously studying. 25-year old Brian May knew that he was supposed to study that night, as he had a pre-term test the following Monday. He had the heaviest workload out of all the members after all, as he was already finishing up his master’s degree in Astrophysics. It was only Friday though, so he thought that he had more time to spare for his love for music before he buried his nose in his books again.

As usual, the band performed splendidly, them having enough energy from the Christmas and New Year feasts the previous week. They had been performing for almost seven months now, and they were getting better every single time. Freddie was a powerful ball of energy and charisma, and he also had a voice to match. It was safe to say that he was very happy with their progress, and he was only waiting for the perfect opportunity of having a producer discover them. Just a bit more attention and they would get somewhere.

So, after cramming all of their instruments and paraphernalia into his bandmate Roger’s van, they fixed themselves up and headed back into the crowded pub. Veronica, their 21-year old bassist John Deacon’s girlfriend, hopped and congratulated them. It wasn’t long before they found a free table by the corner. They then huddled around it and sat, as their dark-haired front man excused himself to find his own girlfriend. The three men sat and talked about how great their set was and how they could improve it. The plans were never finalized, however, since they knew that they needed the input of their flamboyant lead singer.

“We have all these plans but Freddie will always have the last say,” John said, an amused expression upon his face.

Their drummer, Roger Taylor, 23 years old at the time, chuckled, “Never forget Fred. He’ll revise everything anyway.”

So, they continued to chat amongst themselves before Brian stood up and said, “The first round’s on me. I’ll get Fred’s later. What are you guys having?”

After repeating their orders, Brian sauntered off to the bar to get three pints of beer and a glass of gin and tonic. He cursed at himself, knowing that he will never be able to carry all of those all the way back to their booth at once. He ordered them anyway, accepting his fate of having to carry all those glasses all the way to the booth. As he waited, another customer shimmied too close to the guitarist as he ordered since the bar was already becoming very crowded. He stepped away from the bar, shaking his head as he slowly turned around to inspect the crowd on the dance floor. Before he managed to do that, he bumped into another person who was carrying two pints of beer in one hand and another in his other hand.

“Oh, shit,” Brian cursed under his breath, shaking the beer out that spilled on his hands and arms. He silently thanked the fact that he was so tall that the beverage was only carried leveled with his tummy and not his chest. Not much damage was done to his shirt.

“Oh, my God,” the man he bumped with exclaimed as he tried to steady the beverages he was holding to keep any more from spilling. “I am so sorry, Sir, are you alright?”

Brian chuckled and smiled at him good-naturedly before replying, “S’alright. No harm done.”

The man, who was only a few inches shorter than Brian himself, looked at him apologetically and shook his head before turning to the bar. He had brown hair that had a hint of red in it and dark green eyes. Brian, the straight man that he was, noted that he was quite handsome, with his well-defined cleft chin and prominent jaw. His body was lean but well defined as well, being toned and slightly muscled all over, which was obvious despite the unremarkable clothes he wore. He was exactly that—well defined. He was a picture of how anyone would define a man. Brian suddenly felt self-conscious for a while as he made a mental note to start eating more protein despite being a vegetarian.

Seeing the free space adjacent to him, the guy Brian bumped into placed the three mugs of beer down on it and asked the bartender for some tissue. Brian moved to stop him, saying that there really was no trouble, but stopped when he saw that the man was already quick on his feet.

The man went back to Brian with a thick pile of tissues in his hand. He smiled sheepishly as he handed the pile to the curly guitarist. “No, I really am sorry. I really wouldn’t like it if that happened to me either.”

Brian accepted the tissues and gingerly wiped the beer on his arms and hands that were only starting to get sticky. He chuckled, “Well, you were carrying an awful lot of beer there. Don’t you have anyone to help you with that?”

The man chuckled back, “Our booth’s not that far off. This place is too crowded so I told my companions to sit on it…” He trailed off as his eyes searched the side of the bar that had their booth in it. Brian followed his gaze on an empty booth that was quickly filled up by a large group of drunken college students. The man looked confused for a few moments. He could have sworn that was the booth he left. He shook his head as he made a mental note to find his siblings right after. “They’re gone?” He asked no one in particular, but Brian heard him.

As Brian continued to wipe the last traces of beer on his skin, the man beamed up at him and said, “Anyway, your performance was terrific, by the way. I’m always intrigued by rock and roll here in Europe and I’ve seen a few bands here perform. But quite a unique group, you are.”

Brian raised his eyebrows and smiled at him, obviously delighted that more and more people were starting to take notice of their work. “Why, thank you very much. We have been performing together for a while, you know.”

“Ha,” he said, shooting him a curious look, “Well, that’s a bummer. My timing must be always off then. Forgive me for being nosy, but what have you done to your guitar that gives that distinct sound?”

Brian beamed; even more delighted that someone was finally noticing his very own handiwork. He was very proud of his guitar and was quite pleased that someone took interest in it now. So, he generously explained all the facts he could possibly give about his beloved Red Special, the two men became so engrossed with their conversation that they failed to notice that it took almost 10 minutes to get Brian’s order out. The bartender cut the conversation as he peered at the guitarist for a moment and called his name, saying that he needed to get his drinks. Brian nodded at his direction before turning to the man he had been talking to.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, always minding his manners, “May I know your name?”

The man chuckled and held his hand out for the taller guy to shake, and said, “It’s Frederick. Frederick Xavier. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Brian smiled and shook his muscled hand firmly with his scrawny one and replied, “Well, Brian May, guitarist for Queen.” Wow, that was a pleasure to say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. You sort of have the namesake among the group,” he chuckled before gathering the many glasses of booze he had to carry back to his own booth.

Frederick laughed, “Oh, the frontman. What a voice!”

“Indeed,” Brian laughed as well.

_Xavier._

Where did he hear that name before?

Brian racked his brain to try and remember where he encountered someone with that name.

Then it dawned on him. He knew a prominent figure that had that last name. That figure was one who had a major contribution to modern nuclear science! Brian paused and looked at his newfound acquaintance for a moment before he asked, “By any chance, would you happen to be related to a certain Dr. Brian Xavier?”

Frederick gave him an unreadable expression for a few moments before he replied, “The nuclear scientist?”

Brian nodded enthusiastically, silently hoping for an affirmative answer. To his delight, the brunette answered, “Yes.”

“He was my uncle’s father. My granduncle, if you can say,” Frederick continued, smiling politely at the taller man. Brian’s eyes widened like saucers and he almost jumped at his spot as he asked more questions such as:

“Have you met him before?”

“Did he have some unfinished work lying around?”

“What was his study technique?”

Frederick answered all of his questions politely until Brian decided that he has had enough. Little did Frederick know, however, was that the guitarist made a mental note to think about much more to ask him later on that night. They went on to talk about his band some more. After a while, Brian noticed that Frederick looked at the direction of the college-student filled the booth with a scrunched up face.

“They’re not there,” Frederick mumbled as he started to gather the three mugs he was holding a few minutes ago before he said, “Well, I better not keep you then. I think your mates have waited a wee bit long now, yeah?”

Brian chuckled again, trying to hold all of his glasses as well. “They’ll be fine. These are a lot too, you see.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around then!” Frederick started to walk off.

Brian pondered for a while, determined to be able to milk some more information about his idolized granduncle, before saying, “Hey, mate, I know you haven’t found your companions around.”

Frederick turned his head to shoot him a confused look with a raised eyebrow. Being the kind man that he was, Brian shook his head as he continued, “Would you like to join us? We got plenty of room.”

Frederick looked at the booth he was supposed to go to and shook his head. He turned to the guitarist before nodding.

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “I’m an abandoned ship anyway.”

So, they both juggled their sets of mugs to Queen’s far off booth, Frederick walking right behind the taller guy as the latter waded his way in the crowd. They eventually got there, and immediately placed the mugs on the table, relieving their aching arms. The three people who remained sitting around the table, namely John, Roger, and Veronica, eyed Frederick in confusion. Brian wiped his hands on his pants, momentarily forgetting that he had a new friend with him.

Roger pulled a mug to himself and shot Brian a mischievous grin, “I didn’t know you were into guys, Bri. No wonder it took you so long.”

Brian immediately turned to him and glared. Frederick stood there, looking at them back and forth as he shifted his weight under his feet. Veronica and John laughed, shaking their heads. Brian turned to the others as he introduced his new friend.

“Hello, everyone. This is Frederick,” he pointed to the shorter man standing beside him. “I met him just a while ago.”

“I spilled beer on him, really,” Frederick quipped amusedly as he smiled.

Brian chuckled before continuing, “Yes, and his friends seemed to have abandoned him so I figured he join us.”

“They were my siblings, actually.”

Everyone paused and turned to him bemusedly, a little sorry for his situation. Frederick chuckled as he shook his head.

“Oh, that’s bullocks,” Brian shook his head before he gestured Frederick to take a seat beside Roger. Frederick did so as Roger scooted over to give him some space to sit. Brian pulled up a chair from nearby and sat on the short end of the booth.

Frederick pulled a pint of beer from the three he carried a while ago for himself, “Well, I’m going to say this again. You guys did really well, you have amazing harmonization there.”

Roger and John smiled, nodding in appreciation. “Thanks, mate. Roger Taylor, by the way. The drummer,” Roger said before he took a swig of his beer. Frederick held up a hand for him to shake. The drummer chuckled at the formality this guy was exuding as he looked at his hand momentarily before he shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Frederick said, smiling.

He then turned to John, who said, “John Deacon, the bassist. And this is my girlfriend, Veronica.”

The brunette shook their hands as well, nodding at them like a dignitary. Roger chuckled at him again. What was up with this guy? He wasn’t annoying or anything. He just seemed like someone who didn’t go to a pub often. Who shakes hands at a drinking place these days?

Roger shook his head, resigning to the thought that maybe the bloke was just new here. So, he turned to the brunette and asked, keeping his voice loud so that everyone in the booth could hear him even with the noise in the place, “So, since we lot have already been drinking together for a few months together anyway,” he started, pertaining to his band mates and Veronica, “tell us about yourself, Frederick. Don’t worry about Brian—he likes memorizing things.”

Brian rolled his eyes at the drummer and looked eagerly at Frederick who seemed to contemplate what he was going to tell them. He blinked a few times before he finally stuttered, “Uh.”

As if right on cue, a blonde-haired girl wearing the most fashionable leather jacket and flare jeans approached their booth, flustered as she fought to get through the many people in the place. She brushed her strawberry blonde locks with her fingers as she continued to walk. All of them turned their heads to her, and Brian stood up to greet her with a warm hug.

“Mary!” he exclaimed as he let go of her. “Where’s Fred?”

Mary looked at him and then at Roger and John, confused. “I thought he already told you. He just told me to go look for you over here.”

“Told us what?” John asked, starting to become concerned.

Mary shook her head and smiled sheepishly, “Oh, it’s nothing major,” she said as she walked around Brian to walk to Veronica’s side of the bench. “He said he forgot that he only borrowed the keyboard he used and that he crammed it in the van. He just went to get it and return it to the piano room.”

The band members breathed a sigh of relief as they realized that fortunately, Freddie didn’t get himself in any trouble. Mary waved at Roger and John as she said her congratulatory remarks for their performance. Veronica scooted over, beckoning for John to do so as well so that Mary could have some space to sit on. When John was already at the edge of the bench and directly across Roger, Mary sat down, noticing the unfamiliar person in the booth.

“Oh, hello there,” she greeted, smiling at him politely. Frederick smiled back, offering his hand, just as he did with the others, for her to shake. Mary raised her eyebrows before she shook his hand lightly.

“Mary, this is Frederick,” Brian introduced his newfound friend, “Frederick, this is Mary, Freddie’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Frederick said politely, his voice firm but almost sounded slightly shy, which made Mary swoon a little inside. She felt slightly guilty afterward, swearing never to tell anyone else.

Mary laughed lightly as she let go of his hand. “It’s quite refreshing. You shake hands.”

Roger chuckled, “That’s what I thought.”

Frederick looked confused, “You don’t shake hands here anymore?”

Roger was about to say something when Brian interrupted him, “We still do. Just not usually in pubs or in settings like this. It’s still nice, though.”

Frederick still looked confused. He wasn’t that new to England. He could have sworn he still shook hands at drinking places where he usually went. He just shook the thought out, letting it go.

Roger rolled his eyes jokingly at his tall friend, who was always someone who regarded manners very seriously, “Of course you would think like that, Bri.”

Brian shot Roger an annoyed look, which made John shake his head and turn to the newcomer instead. “Why do you ask, by the way? Where’d you come from?”

“I’m actually from New York.”

Everyone raised his or her eyebrows at this. So, John continued, “As in America?”

The brunette nodded, taking hold of his beer, “Yup.”

Roger leaned back in his seat and sighed, “Damn, I always wanted to go there.”

“Why don’t you elope with him then?” John told the drummer sarcastically, earning a glare from the blonde.

“Oh, shut it, Deacy,” Roger said, making everyone, including Frederick himself, snicker. Roger had always been teased because he looked like a woman sometimes. Thankfully, despite him being a hothead, he never really took offense out of it, and rather just went on with their jokes.

“So, Frederick,” Brian started again, feeling more intrigued by the guy. ‘ _I’m always with the band anyway,_ ’ he thought. “What brings you here to England then?”

“Oh, lay off him, Bri. We might have asked too many questions,” Roger said, starting to feel irked for Frederick for being put in the spotlight a bit too long in the conversation despite being the first time meeting them. Veronica and Mary waved him off, however, the two girls leaning closer to the table to listen to the newcomer.

“No, wait,” Veronica said, putting her elbow on the table as Mary did. “I am a bit curious about it. Why are you here in this dingy pub, Frederick?”

Brian looked at the girl, mocking a shocked look on his face, “It’s not ding--”

“Sshh!” Mary shushed the guitarist before she turned her attention to the handsome guy in front of her again.

Roger chuckled at the situation as the two girls obviously fawned over him despite trying to be discreet about it. Frederick shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he swallowed and glanced quickly at the bassist in front of him. John chuckled and looked at him amusedly as if he was trying to tell him to go on.

So, Frederick replied, “I study law in Oxford.”

Roger swore right then that the girls across him were drooling silently in their seats. Brian and John were oblivious to this, however, since they were equally intrigued by the brunette. That, or they didn’t notice—or rather, they didn’t care. If Frederick knew just how… cool… he seemed right now, they never knew since he just sat there, seeming all polite, not even taking a swig of his beer after he answered their questions. They just kept on questioning him.

“Oxford University? That’s… hours from here,” Brian contemplated, deciding if he should believe the guy or not. Then he remembered that the handsome man was a relative of one of the smarted people he knew. So, the guitarist just accepted it. “Why are you here in London?”

Frederick chuckled and said, “My sisters have some… business here for a few weeks and my brother tagged along. They’re all not that familiar here anymore since they mostly grew up in New York. Well, we all did. Since I’m still on break, I figured I accompany them while they’re here.”

Everyone nodded, satisfied with his answer, although they still had questions in their mind. Sensing this, Frederick finally lifted his beer mug to his lips and he took a sip from it.

Brian chuckled, “All that trouble and yet they left you hanging?”

Frederick chuckled back, almost sounding sorry for himself. “Yeah.”

“There, there, mate,” Roger said amusedly, clapping his shoulder. “You tried.”

Everyone laughed before Frederick set his mug down on the table and said, “Okay, we’ve already established that I’m a trying hard older brother.”

They all roared in laughter once again before Frederick diverted the topic, “Enough about me. What’s up with you guys?”

So, they all chatted amongst themselves, slowly becoming slurry as they ordered more and more alcohol, and Frederick just drank his siblings’ pints of beer. Interestingly enough, Frederick wasn’t deterred by the odd quirks of every person in the table—with their references to Roger being a womanizer, Mary being the fashionable hottie who decided to date the flamboyant Freddie Bulsara, John and Brian being nerds and Veronica being the most normal out of them all. They all cheered and drank shots of hard drinks and pints of beer, and before they knew it, almost 45 minutes have passed. It was then that they noticed that Freddie wasn’t back yet.

“Wait,” Mary slurred, hazily looking at everyone with worry in her eyes. “Where’s Fred?”

Everyone except Frederick furrowed their brows as they realized that their friend was still missing in action.

“Oh, shit,” Brian cursed under his breath, putting his beer down.

“He’s been replaced by another Fred,” John said, chuckling darkly as he sipped from his beer.

Mary looked around them in the pub in search for her energetic boyfriend. Roger waved her off, saying, “I’m sure he’s fine, Mary. Probably just entertaining people who want to ask about the band or something.”

With that, Mary relaxed into her seat but still had traces of worry in her face. “Oh, I hope you’re right.”

Frederick listened to his new friends start a new conversation about something when the sight of his raven-haired, lanky younger brother caught his attention and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be looking after his younger siblings. His eyes widened, which made the others stop what they were talking about.

“What’s wrong, Fred?” Brian asked, looking over to where the brunette was looking as well.

Frederick grew annoyed as he realized that his younger brother was there, nursing a bottle of beer as he talked closely (and awkwardly) to a girl who was stealing light touches on his arm. So, Frederick turned to the others and said, “Can you please excuse me for a second? I’ll go get my brother.”

He didn’t wait for their response when he bolted out of his seat and raced to where the younger man was standing. The others watched in amusement as the brunette stood beside his brother and introduced himself quickly, effectively cutting their conversation, before he placed his arm on his brother’s shoulder and practically ripped him off the confused blonde girl. They stopped watching when they saw the brothers arguing already.

Frederick pulled his brother, younger by about three years than him, to a corner in the pub, where they were far away from the girl the latter was talking to. The raven-haired teenager looked at Frederick in confusion as the older guy ran his hand across his hair in frustration.

“Wha--”

“Alex, where is she?” Frederick asked through gritted teeth, glaring at his brother.

Alex’s eyes widened as he answered, “I thought she was with you!”

“I thought she was with you!” Frederick exclaimed back. “I just got up to get drinks for all of us and before I even got back to the table, you were already gone!”

Alex pursed his mouth and nodded slowly when a realization hit him. “Oooh,” he said, smiling sheepishly in the end, “So, that’s what you said.”

Frederick blinked at him as he felt himself sober up. “What did you think I said?”

“I thought you said you’ll get something to drink and look around.”

Frederick stared at him for a moment before he slapped his forehead in frustration. “That’s far from what I said.”

“Heh,” Alex scratched the back of his head as he waited for his older brother’s anger to dissipate. Frederick was never one to stay angry for long, even when drunk he supposed, especially during times of crisis and danger. One of his greatest traits was that he was calm and collected whenever it was needed, and this was one of those times.

“Well, it is a bit too noisy in here,” Alex mumbled, looking at the ground, trying to defend himself a little. Frederick just shook his head in response then looked around before turning to him.

“No matter,” the older brother said, seemingly sober now. “We’ve got to find her before… something happens.”

Alex shook his head, about to say something when his brother pulled his arm. Before he could even register it, Frederick was already walking in the direction the latter came from.

“Come on,” the brunette said as they brisk walked back towards the band’s booth. “You should meet my friends first.”

When the two finally got to the booth where Frederick was earlier, everyone was still there, just casually talking to each other despite the noise that other people inside the pub were making. John was the first one to spot them approaching, so he pointed to their direction for the others to look at. The brothers stopped just beside where Brian was sitting.

“Hello again, everyone,” Frederick greeted, the same sober politeness back. He seemed calm, but Alex could feel the tension radiating from his brother beside him. “I thought it’d be rude if I leave you guys just like that.”

“This is Alex, my younger brother,” the brunette introduced. Alex smiled at them, making a small wave with the hand that wasn’t holding a beer bottle.

“Hi, Alex!” everyone chorused.

“Hello,” Alex said, equally as polite as his brother. After further introductions, he then proceeded to gush over how much he liked the band’s dynamics that night.

Roger chuckled taking a sip from his beer as he saw Veronica and Mary’s jaws drop at the sight of the other guy joining their booth. Even Roger was able to admit that the guy was just as handsome as his older brother. He looked younger, having a lankier build, having the same height as the older brother. He had black, shaggy hair, and dark brown eyes that didn’t seem as piercing as his brother’s dark green ones, but still, when he looked at the girls, they swooned internally. He gave off a different vibe, but Roger was still able to conclude that he was good-looking. Talk about good genes. Guess he had a competition tonight. Two, actually.

“Why don’t you two have a seat?” Roger asked, for once being polite.

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m afraid we can’t stay,” Frederick refused gently, before glaring at his brother, “Someone lost our little sister tonight.”

Roger raised his eyebrows in amusement. So, a pretty bird was alone around here somewhere? Looking at the two tall, well-built men in front of him, he imagined the girl to look like a model—tall, lithe and beautiful. He half-heartedly contemplated whether or not he should look for her when the two brothers leave.

Alex rolled his eyes before saying, “I. Thought. She. Was. With. You.”

Everyone bit back a laugh at the scene happening in front of them. So, there were two handsome men in the booth with them, bickering like Freddie and Brian normally did during rehearsals.

“Wait, wait,” Brian interrupted the quarreling guys beside him. “What’s so wrong about her being… out and about?”

The two guys standing looked at each other before Frederick turned to them and answered sheepishly, “She’s… underage.”

So, a young pretty little bird was around here somewhere! Roger laughed mentally, starting to look forward to what’s going to happen next. The others just gawked at the two, unsure whether it was funny or if they should be concerned as well.

“Yeah, but she’s going to start going to a university soon,” Alex said. Brian thought about it for a short moment. Starting university soon when she was underage? But he let it go, resigning to the thought that maybe these lot were just incredibly lucky in the gene pool. Then, Frederick continued, “I thought she’s going to be exposed to drinking places anyway, so might as well get her to try drinking while we’re around. So, you know… we can try to get her to hate it.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. After a short pause, he said, “It was a stupid idea.”

Everyone laughed, increasingly thinking the situation to be more comedic than serious.

But then the boys started bickering again.

“But, Fred, it’s not like we haven’t been to a club before,” Alex said, earning a glare from the older guy.

“Yes, I know,” he answered, “but it wasn’t filled with drunken college students who are ready to pounce at anyone who doesn’t seem to be with anyone.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” John said as he shrugged. Everyone snickered although the two didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re overreacting, Fred,” Alex said as he shook his head at his brother.

“She’s just seventeen, Alex,” the older guy said, sounding more panicky than before.

“She’s _already_ seventeen, Fred,” Alex deadpanned, crossing his arms. “She’s not daft.”

For the others, it may have been just a comedic situation where two overprotective brothers lost track of where their sister was. But for Brian, there were so many questions running in his head as they went on.

He was about to blurt one out when the older one finally said, “You know what, let’s just go. We seriously need to start looking now.”

Alex nodded, disgusted as he looked at a couple openly sloppily making out, about to take off their clothes, in one of the booths adjacent to them, “Yeah, everyone’s getting drunker and drunker.”

Frederick nodded calmly before turning to the others sitting down. “Well, it was very nice meeting you all tonight. I’m so sorry for the trouble.”

Brian chuckled as he answered the brunette kindly, “No trouble, mate. You gave us a good laugh tonight.”

Everyone agreed, all right.

Frederick managed to let out an exasperated laugh before saying, “Yeah, I hope I still end up laughing tonight.”

“If you won’t get busy yelling,” Alex muttered.

Frederick rolled his eyes and continued, “Enjoy the rest of the night, everyone! We’ll try to get back once we’ve found our sister. Well, if you’re still going to stay here. I’m sure she’d like to meet you as well.”

And with that, they waved goodbye and the two men walked off, their heads turning constantly in search for their sister.


	2. Hello, Freddie

Alice grimaced as she quickly walked away from a guy who just spilled the contents of his stomach beside the stage, just before he reached the bathroom. She was supposed to go out of the building through the back door, which was near the spot where the guy wretched. So, she turned around. She started looking around for another escape route, trying to see if there were any more drunk people coming her way. She pushed her oversized, square glasses up on her nose and walked further to a corner of the building. She spotted her brother, Alex, standing a few meters away from where she stood. She contemplated calling him but decided against it when she saw him laughing with the girl he started a conversation with earlier. They rarely ever got to interact with other people when they were kids, much fewer people in these places. So, when the opportunity comes, they should all grab it. She really should leave her brothers to mingle with other people their age anyway. 

But ugh, it was noisy—too noisy. She liked the clubs she’s been in before. But this was really too noisy. She just wanted to get out. 

So, spotting a spiral staircase at the corner of the pub that nobody seemed to occupy (since it had an ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign on one of the rails), she ascended it, curiously looking around the dim area. When she finally got to the top, she sighed in relief, seeing that there were no drunken people. It was quiet, the beats of the music inside the pub muffled by the floor beneath her. She was greeted by the sight of an empty hall with a few doors at each side, the others closed and the others open. So, she walked on, turning around every once in a while to see if anyone was out to get her.

One can never be too sure. 

She peered inside the open doors and walked a bit faster when she saw that it was too dark to see anything. The light bulbs that illuminated the hall were flickering, which made her a bit nervous. But, anything was better than the noisy, college student-filled pub downstairs anyway.

When she reached the end of the hall, she was delighted to see a familiar thing inside one of the most illuminated rooms she saw lately: an upright piano leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. So, she made a beeline towards it, stepping on a creaky wooden tile along the way.

When Alice reached the piano, she opened the latch and wiped off the dust covering it with a stray cloth on top of the latch. She pressed a random key, and then pressed a chord with her right hand to test if it was still in tune. She smiled when she heard the instrument elicit the correct sound. She pulled the bench closer to her so that she could sit down and play more comfortably. She supposed she could just kill her time with it anyway.

Alice was never a good instrumentalist. She knew that she was the weakest one when it came to playing any instrument compared to all of her siblings, but still she loved music. If there was anything that comforted her more, it was always music. It’s not like it was limited for her. In fact, she was trained since she was very young to become a musician—a singer. Plus, music was in their blood. She’d had singing and theatre lessons almost every day, but she didn’t mind, of course. Now, she was even part of a musical where she had one of the lead roles together with her beautiful, more talented older sister. She had all the reasons to be thankful. Still, sometimes she wished she could play the piano better than she did so that she didn’t have to sing acapella when her siblings weren’t around. 

Still, there weren’t any people around to judge this time. So, she flicked her long, wavy, reddish brown hair back, adjusted her plastic-rimmed glasses, and started to play one of the few songs she knew how to play, singing along with it: _Moon River_. 

“ _Moon River, wider than a mile,_

 _I’m crossing you in style some day.”_  

Freddie Bulsara, front man of the college band _Queen_ , huffed in annoyance as he lugged the heavy electronic keyboard up the spiral staircase of the pub. How could he have forgotten that he just borrowed the bloody thing? With the mistake, he had to go back to the back of the pub to Roger’s van parked outside then carry the instrument all the way across the pub again and up the stairs.

 _‘This won’t make me any prettier,’_ he thought as he sighed and walked carefully through the straight hall of the pub’s offices and storage floor.

Suddenly, the light bulb directly above him flickered and then completely turned off, making him curse in shock, “Oh, bloody hell.” Freddie walked forward as fast as he could to the most illuminated area in front of him. 

He then stopped in his tracks when he heard the _singing_.

“ _Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker.”_

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed as he took another cautious step forward to hear it better. He looked at the open door where the sound seemed to come from. He knew there was a piano there. It was functional, yes, but it was a female angelic voice—one that he never dreamed could be heard in a pub like this. She was a smooth soprano, hitting the right notes and perfectly timing the vibratos. He was reminded of how much he loved the opera. 

“ _Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way.”_

 _‘Oh, my God. Am I dead?’_ he thought as he carefully took more steps forward towards the door. As the sound became clearer and the music from the pub becoming more muffled to the point that it was almost inaudible, he became more convinced that his thoughts were actually true.

“ _Two drifters, off to see the world,_

_There’s such a lot of world to see.”_

Freddie clutched the keyboard tighter to his chest as he inched closer to the open door. He peered inside only to be met by the sight of the back of a petite female with long, brown, wavy hair that reached the middle of her back. He watched as she inflated a bit when she took deep, steady breaths as she sang effortlessly in her chair. He took note of the fact that she seemed to struggle with keeping up with playing the piano, though. 

“ _We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waiting ‘round the bend,_

_My huckleberry friend,_

_Moon River and me.”_

Then, she repeated the lyrics with a turned up pitch one octave higher, as the song really goes. Freddie watched in awe as she continued to sing the song with no effort at all despite the difficulty. He was Freddie. Freddie Mercury. His standards were high, but the girl transcended his standards. That was a feat. 

Midway through the song though, Freddie was so engrossed that he accidentally loosened his grip on his keyboard, dropping it slightly to create a thud sound on the floor. He had very fast reflexes as he was trained in boxing as a child, but he wasn’t able to register when she immediately stopped singing, and frantically ran to the corner of the room. 

When he was able to get out of his trance, he scanned the room only to zone in on the girl turning around with a crowbar in her hands.

So, he screamed. 

…She screamed as well.

Freddie hugged his keyboard tightly against his chest, as he remained glued to his place on the floor. He lifted the keyboard higher to cover his head.

“Oh, mother please!” he exclaimed, genuinely scared for his life. He remained still, unsure of what to do.

“Who are you?” the girl asked, almost screaming, fear evident in her voice. Freddie peeked a little to see that she was still in the corner of the room, the crowbar slightly lowered. 

“Who am I?” Freddie repeated, suddenly feeling incredulous. “Who are you? I always come here!”

Alice paused as she looked for the right words to say. What was she supposed to say to a… conman? Was he going to rape her? _Kill_ her?

Wait, he doesn’t seem like a conman. He was holding a keyboard, covering his face. Why would a conman do something like that?

Freddie, noticing the girl’s hesitation to answer, became more courageous and lowered the keyboard to reveal his face. He looked at the girl closer _,_ noticing the big glasses and white trainers she was wearing. How dare an unfashionable girl challenge him? He was not going to be beaten by the smallest girl he has ever seen in this pub!

Freddie started shouting: “I am a harmless—"

“I’m sorry, Sir!” she interrupted him, throwing Freddie off guard. So, after she made a show of trying to kill him, she apologizes?

She lowered her crowbar to the ground, and said, “I thought this room was unoccupied so I just came in and used the piano. I didn’t know someone actually cared about it since it was so dusty anyway—“

Now, she was rambling. Freddie shook his head and sighed. He lowered the keyboard to the ground, and perched his hands on his waist before he signaled the girl to stop talking.

“Oh, relax, darling,” he said, immediately causing her to really do so. “I’m not mad. That thing isn’t even mine.”

“Oh." 

“And please,” Freddie picked up the keyboard again and placed it in the other corner of the room opposite her. “Don’t call me ‘Sir’.”

He turned around and faced her, “Call me Freddie.”

She nodded, seemingly enlightened, unafraid and relaxed now. “You’re the singer that performed in the band tonight." 

Freddie tilted his head, happy that she watched their performance all along and that she remembered them. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her that. Because of course, he was remarkable. 

“Yes, I am,” he said. He suddenly remembered her singing and asked, “And who are you?”

The girl in front of him smiled, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “I’m Alice.”

She then walked hesitantly towards him to hold out her hand. Freddie looked at her curiously before taking her hand and shaking it. Afterward, she stepped back, maintaining a considerable distance between them.

“I love your songs,” she gushed, seemingly genuine. Freddie smiled, slowly loosening up to the girl. “And your performance was brilliant.”

“Just,” she gushed further, “Wow. Consider me a fan.”

Freddie never got tired of hearing compliments. So, he just basked in them. “Why, thank you, darling. I’m glad you were able to come.”

“You know, I’m not usually into rock and roll. Even those in the U.S.,” she said, earning another curious look from Freddie. “But I really do like your music. It’s quite unique. Would you happen to have some records available on shelves?”

Freddie sighed internally. A record was something that the band craved but has yet to be discovered by a producer. So, he shook his head and replied, “I’m afraid we don’t, my dear.” 

She looked disappointed, but Freddie didn’t like talking about negative topics like pitying. He decided to divert the topic, “I heard you singing, you know.”

He kind of expected the small, awkwardly dressed girl to blush at his statement and maybe shift her feet in nervousness. Instead, she just smiled brightly at him and said, “Well, yes. I sing." 

Freddie raised an eyebrow at her and decided that he was up for a challenge tonight. 

That was why Freddie found himself sitting next to Alice on the piano chair about a half hour later, singing and playing random songs sung by iconic artists, mostly from musicals. Freddie found out that Alice was a theatre singer—trained to sing classical music. Although he spent a couple of hours belting out their songs at the gig that ended just a few minutes ago, Freddie felt particularly refreshed by their jamming session, as he was the only one who actually liked musicals, opera, and classical music. The rest of the boys felt that classical music was really just too stiff, and they were really just rock and roll loyalists. He felt inspired by the girl he was singing with despite the fact that he never really had the ambition to become a theatre actor or opera singer. It gave him an idea to maybe incorporate the style of music to their own—after a few arguments with his band mates of course.

Laughter erupted in the room as Freddie and Alice tried to agree on a song to sing together. On one hand, whenever Freddie thought about when worked with his band mates, or any other musician for the matter, he always kept their playfulness in check, to be as productive as possible. It usually ended up in petty fights when it came to his band mates but still; he kept the habit. This time, however, was nothing serious at all. Freddie revered in the fact that they were just two very different musicians who were trying to mesh their voices together with the type of music that they both loved. He also revered in the fact that he could actually talk to someone other than Roger, who became the band’s lead back up singer and did not really care about the technical terms, about singing. Alice was a soprano, who had a vocal range from D3 to C6, and she uttered the lyrics very well—a feat that Freddie found very interesting, as it had been something that he always aimed to achieve. The aspect that kept him glued, however, was the fact that she seemed to focus too much on how she sang, with technique always in mind. The singers he’s met didn’t really seem to care about technique, you see. In other words, he found it quite fascinating that he saw himself in the small singer next to him.

On the other hand, what fascinated Alice the most about the flamboyant band singer was that he used so many techniques that she learned during her many years of training. The guy next to her had none. He just had pure talent and enough confidence to know that he’s hitting all the right notes.

Of course, Alice can sing a lot of songs from musicals so she tried asking Freddie about the songs that he knew how to play on the piano since he was the better instrumentalist.

_“I’m so pretty,_

_Oh, so pretty,_

_I feel pretty and witty and bright!”_  

They both sang, with Freddie throwing his head back as he belted out the last note, making Alice giggle.

_“And I pity_

_Any girl who isn’t me tonight.”_

“Oh, dear, it’s like I wrote this song!” Freddie quipped, making Alice howl with laughter.

Even with just the short time of their encounter, Alice already loved Freddie’s outgoing and flamboyant personality. Ever since she was born, she was mostly surrounded by stiff, formal people who seemed like they forgot how to laugh. Even if her parents had already passed away when she was very young, she remembered having to be so behaved when they were around as a child. Her mother was a sweet and kind individual with the most peaceful smile she could remember, but she was stern when it came to teaching them proper manners, and since she also served as their first vocal teacher, she brought that sternness in their lessons as well. She couldn’t remember much about her father since he always seemed to be away—she only remembered that he was more playful than her mother, but as a military general, she had to keep her distance whenever people were around. She didn’t understand at the time, but Frederick said it was because they were nobles. So, she just went along with it.

The guardian she grew up with, her uncle was a very peaceful person. Too peaceful. He was stern, but he hid it under his calm and composed nature of teaching. And doing everything else, for the matter. He wasn’t the kind who liked to be loud and only liked classical music, although he did tolerate jazz. So, throughout her childhood, Alice, together with her siblings, made music that was easy on the ears, aiming to create the best harmonies that four contrasting voices could create. Having been trained since they were young, they focused on technique more than anything. That was all until Frederick had to move away and study law in Oxford two years ago.

The three remaining voices still worked, she guessed. However, she missed the goofy, playful nature Frederick brought whenever they worked together. He wasn’t nearly as playful as the dark-haired singer beside her, but still, when she reminisced it, the dull ache of missing someone still plagued her heart. She felt that ache gathered throughout the two years of her eldest brother’s absence being compensated by rock singer Freddie’s presence, where he sang so freely as if he didn’t care what the others thought. She marveled at the fact that he lets himself go so easily. 

When the laughter died down, Freddie decided that he needed to know more about her.

“So, tell me,” he started, turning his head and shifting his body a little to face her and place his elbow gently on the piano keys, making it emit a sound. “Do you write songs?"

"Oh, dear. No. Not creative enough. I just perform."

"Where do you perform?" 

Alice also turned her body slightly to face him, looking brightly at him. “Currently for the West End.” 

Freddie sat back, amazed. He already gathered that she was good and was already impressed by that. But the fact that she performs in the country’s most prestigious theatre was a new high.

“Oh, that’s marvelous, darling. It’s not every gig that I encounter someone from a _high court_ in this peasantry pub,” he said cheerfully, earning an amused smile from Alice, who seemed almost shy. What Freddie didn’t know was that deep inside Alice was also happy that she was talking to someone who understood what she was talking about unlike those she encountered downstairs who knew nothing about what she was talking about. They’d simply nod and ask if she wanted a drink, then she’d say no and politely excuse herself before she walked away. “And do you do opera?”

Alice shook her head to say ‘no’ but she followed it up with, “My sister’s the one who can do that in our family. I currently perform with her.”

Freddie took note of the way she mentioned her sister proudly so he continued to ask her more, “A sister? I presume that you’ve started singing when you were very young.” 

“Yes.” 

“I see,” Freddie said, thinking about what he wanted to know more about the industry he’d always been enamored about. He loved classical music, but rock and roll was just a little bit closer to his heart, and not to mention it was more accessible. But since he was already with someone from the formal performing arts industry anyway, he decided he should get all the information he can.

However, before he can choose which question to bring forth first, she said something that made him take a mental step back.

“I do want to venture on to other things, though.” 

Freddie tilted his head a little, an inquisitive look in his eyes, as he said, “And what’s that?”

Alice looked away for a second as if she hesitated if she was going to mention it or not. But she looked back at him and replied, her voice small, “I want to study engineering… and attend university.”

Freddie squinted at her, dumbfounded at her answer. Here she was, already a successful performer (who also looks oddly young), but she wants to give that up for the less fabulous life of being away from the stage?

“Excuse me,” he scoffed in disbelief, “what?”

 Alice let out a nervous chuckle before continuing, “It’s just, you know, I’ve been singing all my life. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love singing. I love music. I don’t think I’ll even give it up. But I have other interests, too. And I want a taste of what it’s like to attend… school.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Oh,” Alice said, scratching the back of her neck, “I’ve been home schooled all my life. Partly to make me focus on singing. And I don’t know, I feel like they all think that I can’t do anything other than sing.”

Freddie instantly felt sorry for her. Sure, he didn’t like school, and he didn’t hold very good memories with it, but he would’ve grown lonely had he not attended it. Despite his ambition of becoming a professional singer and make it big with the band, he genuinely _did_ like his degree, and cannot imagine not pushing through with it. Before he could express his words of pity, Alice spoke again.  
  
“But it’s okay, I guess. I wasn’t really lonely. I had my siblings with me and I constantly interacted with people from the industry. We also go to this jazz club that keeps us sane. Honestly, the people in that club have taught us more than the singing lessons ever did.”

“Jazz club, huh?” Freddie asked, suddenly perking up at the mention of a party place. He was oddly being silent, as he grew more curious about the girl beside him.

Alice’s eyes shone mischievously at him. After a beat, she said with a tone that was akin to pride and faith, “I’ll tell you once you’re already coming to America for a gig.”

Freddie showed her a bright smile. She had no idea how great it made Freddie feel that she already believed in them in the short time that they spent together. So, he chose not to pester her further and returned to face the piano, ready to play another random song. Before he could do that, Alice continued the conversation.

“You know, you could really pass as a singer in musical theatres,” she mentioned, looking at him contemplatively.

He was a very confident person, who knew how great a singer he was. So, Freddie raised his eyebrows, lifted his chin up and replied, “Oh, I know, darling. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I’ll bring musical theatre to rock.”

Alice raised her eyebrow. “Oh? Wouldn’t it be too much of a contrast?”

“Why, yes, darling,” he said, putting his hands back on the keys again. “There are no boundaries.”

Alice chuckled at her new boisterous friend, oddly delighted at his big ambitions. She played a chord on the piano and said, “Well, then I’m excited to hear more from you, _rockstar friend._ ”

“No.”

Alice looked at him, suddenly embarrassed and anxious if he took offense that she called him her friend. She wasn’t that good at socializing with people. She knew that there were only a handful of people that she really interacted with. But when Freddie looked back at her with his chin up and a proud grin, she relaxed.

He played the same chord on the piano and said, “I will be a legend, darling.”

Alice smiled and nodded. She then turned back to the dusty piano keys and played a song that immediately came to her mind, a song from the musical film called _Funny Girl_ that was sung by none other than the legendary Barbra Streisand: ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade.’

Freddie recognized the song, all right. How could he not? He adored Barbra Streisand and how she captured the moment and sang perfectly with enough flare to make him jealous. Finding Alice's playing of the song on the piano too softly and slowly, he took over and started singing as proudly as he can.

_“Don’t tell me not to live,_

_Just sit and putter,_

_Life’s candy and the sun’s_

_A ball of butter.’_

Alice beamed up and exclaimed excitedly, “Oh, you know the song!" 

Freddie scoffed, pausing the song and replied, “Of course, darling. It’s my life’s anthem!”

_‘Don’t bring around a cloud_

_To rain on my parade!”_

Alice giggled, delighted. Freddie wasn’t able to make a conclusion as to why she reacted so happily to the songs they were singing, but he just shrugged the thought off and just continued to enjoy the different kind of jamming session he was having with this girl.

He drew a big breath, about to continue singing, but was cut off when she continued the song, trying to rival Freddie’s flamboyance. 

" _Don’t tell me not to fly,_

_I’ve simply got to._

_If someone takes a spill_

_It’s me and not you!_

_Who told you you’re allowed_

_To rain on my parade!"_

They sang together a few moments ago, yes. But he never realized how powerful her voice was.

“To all the fuckers who tell us that we can’t do what we want!” Freddie exclaimed before he sang the next part. Alice laughed after she belted out her last line.

" _I’ll march my band out,"_  Freddie sang, nodding at Alice to continue the next line.

 _"I’ll beat my drum,’_ she continued before they both sang at the same time. 

‘ _And if I’m fanned out,_

_Your turn at bat, Sir._

_At least I didn’t fake it._

_Hat, Sir, I guess I didn’t make it.”_

“Excuse me.”

They immediately stopped singing and playing the piano and whipped their heads around to face the direction of the door behind them. Their song was suddenly interrupted by a middle-aged employee—the owner, maybe—who looked like he was one shot away from falling down, his balding head shiny, eyes bloodshot, and he was wearing clothes that were at least two sizes bigger for him. His brows were furrowed together in annoyance as he leaned against the threshold of the door for support.

“You’re not allowed in here. Didn’t you read the sign?” he slurred, stumbling in his spot.

Sensing that Alice was going to ramble on an apology as she did with him the last time, he spoke up before she even got to draw a breath, saying, “No, we were just returning the keyboard I borrowed for the gig.”

“Oh,” he slurred in reply, calming down a little. “You’re that bloke from _Queen.”_

“Yes,” Freddie said, standing up to face the drunken man. Alice looked at them back and forth before she followed suit and quietly closed the piano lid behind her. 

“Right. Well, you’re not allowed in here. Get out,” the employee said forcefully before he sauntered off to the direction where they all came from. When he was out of sight and earshot, Freddie rolled his eyes and turned to Alice.

“As if someone would actually steal something here,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “What do you say, darling? Let’s get out of here?” 

Alice nodded in response, silently wondering where the hell she was going to start looking for her brothers. She glanced at her watch and saw that she had already been gone for over 45 minutes—Frederick and Alex must be looking for her now.

As they started to walk outside of the door, Freddie suddenly stopped in his tracks and clapped his hands in excitement. Alice also paused to look at him.

“Oh, Alice, you must meet my friends!”

Or perhaps her brothers have other things to do other than worry about her?

 


	3. Hello, Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice finally meets the band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long exposition means that the story is actually quite long. Lol.

For some reason, John felt like this was a lazy gig night at the pub for his bandmates. Sure, they performed well tonight and the pub was packed with people, but they all didn’t feel like going about and mingle. No one wanted to stand up—the boys took turns getting drinks from the bar for everyone. Mary and Veronica were drunkenly chatting beside him about fashion and some other womanly topics that John wasn’t able to comprehend. Brian was just slumped in his chair with his arm slung back over its top rail, casually talking to Roger, who was just swirling the mug of beer in his hand. See, Roger wasn’t even by the bar, making out with another groupie!

That was a lazy night, indeed. John took a swig from his bottle of beer, savoring the relative peace and quiet because Freddie’s usual constant chattering was absent.

Wait.

Where was Freddie?

He glanced at Mary who sat on the other side of his girlfriend. She didn’t seem to be worried. In fact, she didn’t even seem to remember that her boyfriend had been gone for an hour now. He glanced at his bandmates. They didn’t seem to have a care where the singer was. So, he just shrugged and took another swig of his beer.

A few moments later, though, the said singer’s voice rang through the peace and quiet of their booth, turning every person’s heads to his direction.

“Darlings!”

Freddie was loud enough to be heard from where he stood near the bar. He flailed his arms at them dramatically despite knowing that they have already seen him. He hopped towards them, wading through the sea of drunk people in his way.

Mary beamed as she saw her boyfriend make his way towards them. Brian rolled his eyes at the singer fondly and quietly glanced at the few extra bottles of beer that they got in case the two brothers returned. They were unlikely to return so he thought he ought to give them to Freddie. They must have gotten warm by now, but it was okay. Freddie would binge drink on any type of alcohol anyway. Roger scooted further into the booth, giving way for the singer to sit on.

As Freddie neared them, they noticed that he was dragging another person with him. It looked like a girl, smaller than Mary since she stood only leveled with Freddie’s shoulder. Roger glanced over at Mary, trying to see if she knew who the girl was. He turned his gaze away from her as soon as he concluded that she didn’t know the girl when he saw that she furrowed her brows and looked a bit defensive for a moment. But it was Mary. She wasn’t the jealous type. After all, Freddie was a magnet for all sorts of people. She quickly turned back into the sweet, smiling girl that she was.

When the duo finally got to the booth, after Freddie practically swatted the drunk people who got in their way, they stood in front of it with Freddie slightly behind her with his hands on her shoulders as if he was showing them his newest stray kitten. The brown-haired girl pushed her giant glasses up her nose and looked at them with wide dark green eyes.

Brian had an inkling of who this girl might be.

But when Freddie introduced her to them— _Alice,_ he said her name was—and told them what she did for a living and how she had the _sweetest_ voice in the whole wide world, she just waved at them and smiled. When Freddie introduced them to her, she didn’t shake all of their hands.

So, Brian just shrugged the thought off and listened to her as she gushed about how much she liked their performance a few hours ago. They all basked in her flattery, responding to her as modestly as possible—as modest as Freddie and even Roger can go.

Mary visibly got rid of all her suspicions immediately as Alice started talking. Alice seemed sweet, almost naïve as she stood there next to her overly confident boyfriend. To be honest, Mary didn’t need to feel so threatened as she eyed how the girl looked. She was skinny, having a flat arse and chest—as an employee of Biba; Mary estimated her bra size to be a 32A. Sure, she had long, shiny, brown hair that looked well with her fair, dewy skin. But really, her sense of style rivaled that of a 30-year old workingwoman at work! She had on straight cut black pants on, white _trainers_ , and a dark green turtleneck shirt. Okay, fine. It wasn’t that bad. She had a small face, but Mary had can’t judge if it was pretty or not since it was swallowed by the most unflattering big, square-framed glasses she had ever seen.

So, Mary sat there, silently done judging her, warming up to her presence.

Freddie obviously adored the girl with the way he introduced her to them. He wasn’t smitten with her as he was with Mary. Freddie looked at her like how he looked at his cat—yes, it is very odd. But he did budget a big part of his heart for his heart for his cats. It was a part of his heart that made him very protective of them—like they were his children. They all knew it wasn’t entirely difficult to get Freddie’s affections but to be able to forge a real friendship with him, one had to have an instant connection to him—and this girl had it for him to be really determined to rip her away from her own circle to meet them. “She’s my friend, treat her nicely,” he said.

Freddie ushered her to sit beside Roger, who shamelessly eyed her. Freddie then pestered Brian to get out of his seat.

“Sit over there, Bri,” Freddie commanded haughtily, pointing at the spot next to Alice, earning a scoff from the curly guitarist.

“I got here first, Fred,” Brian replied, as forceful as his soft voice could achieve.

Freddie rolled his eyed at him and said, “Well, I want to sit next to Mary. So, move.”

Brian rolled his eyes as well before complying. He was already used to Freddie being bossy anyway. He just went on with it.

As Brian stood up and moved to sit next to the new girl, Freddie moved Brian’s previous seat to be closer to where Mary sat. The blonde girl smiled in satisfaction before she kissed the singer in greeting.

Alice scooted further towards the other end of the booth to make some space for Brian to sit on. It meant that she had to sit hip-to-hip—their sides practically smashed together, with the blonde drummer, who did not cease staring at her with his amused, piercing blue eyes.

Alice was definitely not his type. Roger liked to screw around girls who were bombshells—curvy, sultry, and in clothes that left little to the imagination. This girl was really just far from it. She was far too skinny; short enough for him to be able to believe that he knew what it was like to be as tall as Brian, and she was wearing clothes that Brian’s classmates would probably wear. Or maybe even Deacy would wear. But he continued to stare at her as he marveled at how lightly she moved. She seemed naïve and a bit too conscious with her surroundings at the same time, which seemed odd to him. Honestly, though, his interest in her must have only been there because he wasn’t actively charming girls tonight but here was one, practically shoved at his side. Sure, she didn’t look like she was looking for a one-night-stand but there was no girl who Roger can’t flirt his way with.

“So, Alice,” he started, smirking in his slightly drunken state as he slung his arm over the back of the booth chair behind her. She turned her head to her side to be able to face him, looking at him inquisitively, letting him know that he’s got her attention. Roger found it fascinating that she was undeterred by the fact that their faces were mere inches from each other. She came off as a shy introvert to him; he expected her to at least blush in embarrassment at the close contact. They were even close enough for Roger to observe that she was the tiniest bit cross-eyed. Instead, she gazed at him back, her dark green eyes unwavering with an inquiry.

When Roger was unable to speak for a moment as he stared, she furrowed her brows and tilted her head a little in confusion. So, he leaned just a minute bit closer to her _obviously_ to whisper something in her ear.

As Roger’s lips came closer to her head, she moved slightly away from it, trying to maintain a distance between them. _‘Playing hard to get, I see,’_ Roger thought. Unfortunately for him, that he was wrong. Unbeknownst to them, Freddie was already glaring at him from the opposite corner of the booth.

Before she could ask him what that was all about, Freddie suddenly hissed, “ _Roger_.”

Roger quickly sat up to look at the singer. “What?”

“Go relieve your libido somewhere else. I’d really like her around, not run away because of your promiscuousness,” Freddie said flatly. Everyone except Roger snickered, knowing all too well how determined Roger can be whenever he finds a girl he’s interested in.

Roger rolled his eyes at Freddie, slightly annoyed by his interruption and said, “I was just trying to make conversation, Fred.”

Alice would have scooted away from him had she not been squished between the two guys. So, she just sat there, watching the exchange, not knowing if she should be worried or amused.

Luckily, before they could exchange more banter, Brian stepped in, “Alright, alright. That’s enough. We have a guest.”

“Always the mother hen, Bri,” Roger muttered, taking hold of his beer bottle. Brian rolled his eyes at him. Throughout the ordeal, John just sat there, amused at the whole exchange.

“Well, she’s not our first guest,” John said, amused. Alice looked at him, confused.

“Yeah, there were other blokes here as well,” Brian answered for her to give her some context. He pointed at the empty mugs in front of her. Alice shrugged it off.

“Are these taken?” Freddie asked, referring to the untouched beer bottles on the table, his question not particularly pointed at anyone.

“No, go drink up, Fred,” Brian said in his usual polite tone. He also turned to Alice and said, “Go, take one, too, Alice.”

Alice wanted to refuse, but how the hell was she supposed to tell them that she had never tasted beer before and that she was supposed to drink for the first time with her brothers? But, whatever. They were off doing their own things anyway. She blinked at him for a moment before she finally grabbed one of the slightly cold bottles.

“So, as I was saying,” Roger started again, glancing a nasty eye at Freddie for a moment before turning back to Alice. He now leaned back a little to provide more distance between them, although he didn’t take his arm off the back of her area in the chair. “How’d you and Freddie meet?”

Freddie immediately perked up in his seat, taking his lips off the beer bottle to speak, “Oh, that’s a funny story—“

“Come on, Fred, let her speak,” Brian said exasperatedly, followed by a chorus of amused “yeah” from the others, which was followed by laughter. Freddie just sat back in his seat, pouting. Alice laughed along with them, tickled at how easily they banter with each other without really having any hard feelings after.

Roger found himself staring at her bright smile, which he noticed was her normal, the type of smile where her cheeks lift up, all of her perfectly aligned teeth show, and her eyes squint.

“I actually met him upstairs,” Alice started, innocently smiling at them.

“Upstairs?”

Freddie’s eyes widened at Mary’s immediate reaction. The second floor of the pub they were in was notorious for couples getting it on. So, it was only natural that Mary questioned him for that.

“Yes, darling,” he said hurriedly. “In the piano room.”

Mary and Veronica looked at them expectantly, waiting for the continuation of the explanation. Alice’s eyes widened when a realization hit her, too. Brian and John had to bite down their laughter behind their bottles, while Roger howled his own.

“Oh, how do you like it now, Fred?”

Freddie ignored him and said, “She was there playing the piano when I came to return the keyboard!”

“See, this is why I should always tell the story,” Freddie then turned to Alice and said, “No offense, dear.”

“None taken.”

Laughter erupted again. Despite the short time that she spent with the group, she felt at ease. It didn’t take her long to be at ease with a group of people. She knew how to be sociable when needed even with the small amount of human interaction she had in her life. Still, it wore her out so quickly, and she always had at least one of her siblings with her—most of the time it was her sister since they were always performing together. And her sister was very good at charming people. She never really had to work hard to socialize. So, she always dreaded being alone in a sea of people. But now that she was alone with a group of entirely different people, and she was already very comfortable with them, almost like when she was with her very own siblings. It even took her a long time to realize that Roger was trying to feel her up when it happened.

She was immersed at a very young age in the world of theatre and the performing arts. Personal space was non-existent, and close proximity to other people was never an issue to her. So, by instinct, she just stayed where she was when Roger was so close, only realizing when Freddie called him out.

She had _got_ to be more aware of her surroundings now.

So, she took a sip from the bottle of beer that was starting to warm up in her hands. She didn’t know what to expect. When she tasted the warm, bitter aftertaste, she scrunched up her face in disgust. She fought the urge to gag.

This did not go unseen for Roger, who kept observing her from the corner of his eye.

Freddie went on rambling about what happened in the piano room with her, what they sang, and eventually, it came to a point when Roger was brash enough to mention that he hated musicals, especially the opera. Brian and John remained neutral, comparing the rock and roll and classical music, as Veronica and Mary tried to defend the latter style of music. Alice just smiled at him, saying that it just wasn’t everyone’s choice of music. She then tried to divert the topic back to them, and they immediately told her the story of how the band started. The topic of how the couples got together then followed suit. They exchanged playful banter every once in a while. Roger even playfully tried to flirt with her again, and she just rolled her eyes at him.

It was an easy conversation, with them all comfortable with each other. Alice didn’t like it, but she eventually finished her bottle of beer. She found herself a little looser after that. She laughed a bit louder, and she spoke much more often now, much to the delight of everyone else around her. She didn’t feel dizzy, like what Frederick and Alex said, so she guessed that she wasn’t drunk yet. She just stared blankly as a bucket full of bottles of beer got delivered in their booth.

Feeling her eyes water because of the heat, getting her eyelashes wet, Alice took off her glasses to wipe them with her shirt.

“Alice?”

“What?”

Right after Roger settled back down on his seat after he grabbed two bottles from the bucket, he did a double take as she looked up when someone called her name. Her gigantic glasses were off, and her whole face was now free to be seen by the world.

Roger noted how she looked so young, having a small face devoid of any blemish or make-up. She had a slightly rounded, heart-shaped face with a button nose. She apparently had large, upward curved eyes that were lined with not-that-remarkable eyelashes, but her rosy cheeks compensated it.

Or maybe it was the alcohol.

It almost made him grimace as he realized how lightweight she was.

Still, he opened up the cap of one bottle and handed it to her. He wasn’t the type who liked to make women drink or take anything just to make them looser and be easier to persuade to bed, but he really just wanted to see just how much the girl beside him could take.

Just like him, Alice also had to fight back a grimace as the bottle neared her. She didn’t want to drink anymore. Frederick was going to kill her. But what reason could she _possibly_ tell them as to why she’d want to stop drinking?

So, she took it from Roger’s hand, silently cursing.

“Oh, Alice,” Mary cooed, stopping Alice from taking another sip of her beer. “You should stop wearing your glasses, dear.”

Everything was blurry without her glasses on, but Alice found everyone staring at her in amazement. She wasn’t used to a lot of people staring at her. Her gorgeous sister usually overshadowed her and she liked it that way. Although she had always wondered what it was like to be noticed on her own. She blushed, suddenly wanting to sink in her seat.

“There it is!”

Everyone looked at Roger, who smirked at her. “I’ve been trying to get that blush out all this time, love.”

With that, Alice rolled her eyes and punched his arm with enough force to make him yelp. Freddie looked at her with pride and said, “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” before he raised his hand in front of her for a high-five. She did, and she sat back, feeling oddly more comfortable and confident talking to them now.

“I hope not all university boys are like him,” Alice said playfully, trying to decide if she should put her glasses back on or not while she took a swig of her beer.

Brian and John immediately defended themselves, saying that they were far different from Roger.

“Don’t you worry, Alice, dear,” Freddie said to her fondly, with slight mischief in his eye, “When you’re already in a university, I’m sure you’ll be able to look out for yourself from _people_ like him.” He pointed his bottle at Roger.

“Hey!” Roger exclaimed, and then the playful banter started again before Alice found herself in the spotlight again.

“You’re planning to attend university? Where? What degree?” Brian asked as Alice put her glasses back on after wiping her eyes that teared up because of laughter. Everyone else wanted to ask why she would want to attend university when she had a blooming career already, but they just let Brian ask his question first.

“I’ll try to get into computing and engineering degrees. I’m actually here in England with my siblings to try and apply for Imperial College.”

Everyone was taken aback by her choice of degree. John perked up when he heard the word ‘engineering’. Ecstatic, Brian said, “Oh, I go to Imperial! Don’t worry too much about guys like Roger, I’ll tell you who to look out for when you get there.”

That would have caused Roger to spit back a nasty reply, but one phrase got stuck in his head.

_‘…here in England…’_

He looked at John, who looked just as contemplative as he was at the moment. Before he could figure out what was so odd about her phrase, John said, “Alice, where did you say you were from again?”

“New York.”

This couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Not a lot of people from New York come to England. To this pub.

No wonder she looked so young.

Roger pulled away from her slightly, realizing that he was trying to flirt with a girl who hasn’t even come of age yet.

Freddie noticed that, so he looked at them all, a bit confused. “Why’d you all turn so silent?”

Before they could even answer his question, a voice rang a few feet from their booth.

“ _There you are.”_


	4. How The World Turns Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I had to change the date when this scene happened indicated in Chapter 1. Haha. I just realized the mistake when I read the Queen’s history again.

“So, if you grew up in America, why do you still have a British accent?”

They were all cramped in the booth that normally seated only four people to be comfortable. But now, there were already nine of them. John, Veronica and Mary sat on one side while Roger, Alice and Brian sat across them respectively. At the end of the table, three chairs were pulled to seat Freddie, who sat nearest to Mary, and Alex and Frederick, who sat nearest to Brian. The table was already full of both empty and full bottles and mugs of alcohol. Needless to say, they looked ridiculous, but nobody really paid heed to it.

For the past half hour, that was all they did: chatting casually amongst each other. When Frederick and Alex arrived, the former looked frustrated as hell, and the latter was just laughing about it saying, “ _Oh, how the world turns around and around.”_ In the end, they all stayed together because of Freddie’s insistence. Through casual conversations, the three siblings were coerced—courtesy of Freddie, of course—into revealing their relation, how they lost each other in the pub, and how they all ended up in London. Every piece of new information boggled the band and their girlfriends. Apparently, they were all younger than the band members (except John) were—as mentioned before, Alice was a performer at the West End. It was then realized that she was merely a teenager.

“No, it’s not that big of a production,” she said, trying to explain her case. “It’s actually just a required production made by an undergraduate music major and my sister and I landed some roles--,”

“The lead roles,” Frederick added, evidently proud of his sisters.

Alice chuckled, sounding embarrassed, “Yeah. And some producers from a West End theatre just wanted to present it here for a preview show and see if it would appeal more here.”

They didn’t exactly understand but were still amazed at what she did in life. She then clarified that she still wanted to attend university for a computing degree—something specifically not related to music, which earned baffled looks from everyone but approving ones from her brothers.

Alex was only two years older than she was but he was already pursuing a music degree majored in jazz studies in New York, and Frederick was only 22 years old but was already two years into law school. Their sister, Susan, who was absent, was only a year younger than Frederick but was already pursuing a music degree majored in vocal studies. It was safe to say that the budding band was drinking with overachieving kids.

Those bits of information brought on Brian’s question.

Frederick chose to answer Brian’s question. “We grew up with our British uncle. He served as our homeschool teacher after all so it was only natural that we pick up his accent. Plus, we were born here in England and we spent our first few years here.”

When they were asked why they didn’t live with their parents, they just said that it was a long story. They all let it go, thinking that it was probably too touchy a topic to be discussed during a first meeting. Their situation might have been intimate, rather have no sense of personal space, but they’d rather that everyone have a good time. The siblings did come here for that after all.

The three almost intimidated them. But when Alex suddenly blurted out that he thought that European men acted a bit gay, the playful roar of banter and debates immediately started, effectively easing from the serious topics. The siblings were friendly and easy-going, so they somehow just fit themselves in the group.

So, another half hour later, when they were already buzzed with alcohol, they found themselves cheering Alice as she stood up, chugging a whole pint of beer all in one go for the very first time of her life.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Alice’s face was already scrunched up as she finished the last few drops of the alcoholic beverage. When she pulled the mug off her mouth, she had the biggest scowl on her face, which made Roger pat her back lightly.

“That was… disgusting.” She sat back down on the bench and clutched her face.

“Burp it out, lass,” Roger said, chuckling as he continued to pat her back. He had stopped flirting with her by then, knowing that he was surrounded by the men who would probably kill him if he did. Freddie was still one of them.

It was getting late, but the whole group found it hard to leave especially when they already talked about music.

Music was their common ground. No matter how far off their achievements were in life, or how far their genre of music was, for the band members of Queen, the siblings were delightful to discuss it with because they were so open about it. They wanted something _different_.

“I want to incorporate new kinds of music into musicals,” Alex said, slurring his words out. “I mean it gets boring when it’s all about opera, you know?”

This brought on a strong agreement from the boys. They seemed to agree on a lot of things: how rock music should also divert from the Beatles sound, or the Led Zeppelin sound, and that other genres should also be incorporated in it. For both the boys and the siblings, it was a refreshing discussion with people who knew the business from another part of the world. It eventually diverted from a discussion to a game of guessing titles of songs. Naturally, the boys sang European rock songs, while the Xavier siblings sang jazz and classical songs. If one guessed wrong, he or she took a shot (someone bought a whole bottle of vodka). It was in that game that the boys, Veronica and Mary heard snippets of the siblings’ vocal talents—only snippets because they were already drunk and slurring their lyrics. True to Freddie’s word, Alice had the smoothest soprano voice that they had ever heard. Frederick had a light, slightly raspy baritone voice, while Alex had a lower one, which Freddie identified as a bass-baritone and Alex agreed.

Roger ended up taking most of the shots because he simply loathed musicals so he never listened to them. However, Alice was the one who went home the drunkest. It was her first time drinking anything alcoholic after all. Her brothers almost needed to carry her home.

Before the siblings said goodbye though, Freddie pulled Alice into a hug, whispering into her ear, “Go chase your dreams, darling.”

Alice hazily smiled at him and looked straight into his dark eyes, her dark green eyes shining bright with faith, “And I will see your name up in the brightest lights soon, Freddie.”

So, that was the story of the most peculiar gig that Queen ever had before they were famous. They met exceptional people who were so talented, they were almost like outcasts—and with the things they were saying, they seemed to know it, too.

Roger still went on to find someone to go home with that night and Freddie still stayed and drank the pub dry until it got closed, but it was definitely one of their tamest, most quiet, and serious ones.

About two months after that night, they received a call on Freddie’s birthday saying that Trident Studios was interested in them and that Neptune Productions wanted to manage the band. They were going to record in a studio where the greats have been—Beatles, Elton John and the like. They had never been more ecstatic than ever.

So, a few days later, they met with Norman Sheffield and other Trident/EMI executives and they discussed all the things that needed to be dealt with: having to record an album, having to go to tours, their contract, the appearances they were going to make. It was a big break for them.

When all was agreed upon by the two parties, their discoverer, John Anthony, suddenly said something that made them feel that destiny was real for them.

“You know, your band has the most outrageous appeal—the name, your style of music—while it has the most potential, we almost hesitated to call you.”

“What made you push through with it?” Brian asked.

“A Juilliard student taking a short internship in the studio saw your demo tape and recommended you. So, I figured it’s a pretty good go signal for you.”

The four young aspiring musicians looked at each other before turning back to face the executives.

“Juilliard student?”

“Yes,” John Anthony answered. “You know, the top music school in America to date. He said he saw one of your gigs about two months ago…? He was endorsing you quite aggressively; he even said he’ll ask his sister to attest because she was with him that night.”

Freddie’s face broke into a knowing smile.

“May I know who this student is?”

“Alexander Xavier.”

_Oh, how the world turns around and around._


	5. Reunion

It was already October 1974. Queen had now been a moderate success, having a hit single called _Killer Queen_ that was included in their third album _Sheer Heart Attack._ They have been so successful that they have had two tours of which the second one had granted them their first trip to the USA. It was going well until Brian had gotten sick with Hepatitis and they all had to go home to London. There were so many canceled gigs that the label worried over their reputations, but still, they already had much popularity as compared to when they were still starting out with their first album with tracks that didn’t hit off so well. They persevered, and not long after they were already invited to the Top of Pops show.

However successful they might be, they couldn’t help but become bitter over the fact that they didn’t seem to get a decent penny from all the albums that have sold out, or the international tours that they have embarked on. There were times that sometimes Brian’s calm nature had John’s poker face had saved them from getting in trouble with the executives, as Roger and Freddie were prone to have a fit. The label was demanding so much only to give them so little. The label wanted an even more successful album, containing songs that will hit the charts and fill their pockets even more. While they had the same aspirations of better and greater recognition for their songs, the constant pressure was just starting to wear them out.

Now the label made them attend some song contest to maybe help them get inspired. Freddie went against it, angrily telling Norman Sheffield, their manager, that they very well can write their content all on their own. He only let up when Norman told them that it was good for publicity as well because many patrons, journalists, and fans will be there. It was just a day trip anyway as it was held in Brighton, only a few hours from London.

So, there they were seated amongst the audience this time, wearing suits and ties—formal wear that they thought were too itchy and not their style.

“Fuck,” Roger cursed as he listened to the 5th dragging love song that night. He sunk into his seat, rubbing the side of his head in frustration. He heard Brian let out a long, dragging sigh beside him. On his other side sat John, who looked like he was seconds away from falling asleep, and beside the bassist, Freddie was openly glaring at the Greek singer on stage.

When the song finally finished, the audience clapped. The band did so, too, but they did it because they were happy that the song finally ended.

“Thank you very much, Ms. Marinella,” the host says a bit too cheerfully as he walked towards the center of the stage. “Now, before we continue on to the next contestant, we’ll be graced with an intermission number, an excerpt from the French musical, Les Miserables.”

Great!

Another song of a woman who’ll only sound like she’s wailing for five minutes. He sighed as he looked at Freddie to his right, who seemed to be the only one whose demeanor had calmed down. He liked musicals. He liked classical music and the opera. Good for him.

The host continued to explain the plot and production of the musical as the lights dimmed a little to allow the crew to set up about eight microphones on stage.

Awesome.

There will be eight wailing women in one number.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the original London cast of Les Miserables with the song ‘One Day More’!”

The opening notes then filled the dome as shadows of the cast started appearing from the side entrances of the stage and take their places behind each microphone.

The spotlight then focused on an old man in a tuxedo as he began to sing, _“One day more.”_

The old man continued to sing a few more lines before a younger man sang and became the focus. Roger sighed in relief. But when a woman in a navy blue ball gown that was too puffy to be comfortable started singing, his ears started to ring. Freddie seemed to be appreciating her.

Suddenly, another woman started singing. A familiar smooth soprano voice that he hasn’t heard in a while.

_“One more day all on my own.”_

“Is that…?”

_“One more day with him not caring.”_

“Oh, my god. I think that’s Alice!” Freddie yelled while whispering.

_“What a life I might have known.”_

He had to look harder to make sure that it was really she, as she looked different now. She seemed to have gained more weight and got curvier. She was still skinny, but definitely got out of her last years of adolescence well. Her reddish-dark brown hair was pulled up in a low bun with her side bangs out, and she was wearing a much simpler ball gown compared to the other female singer. It was a strapless ball gown with olive green floral silhouettes on a white background.

_“But he never saw me there!”_

Freddie slapped John’s shoulder in excitement, waking up the bassist from his nap.

“Wha—what happened?”

Freddie’s excitement seemed to be tamed as the song when on. He sat back, shushing anyone of them who dared to speak as he focused hard on the music.

Finding nothing else to do, he analyzed the harmony of different types of voices in the song and then reflected on their music. The song didn’t turn out to be a mixture of wailing voices. It turned out to be _fascinating_. He never told anyone of that, though.

After they bowed in front of the audience after the song ended, the band went back to sulking as more odd songs ensued. At the end of the night, the Swedish band called _ABBA_ won first place with their song _‘Waterloo_ ’. When the results were out, a socialization segment followed in another area in the dome, where the winners celebrated and the losers wallowed in the unlimited source of champagne. Just as Norman said, patrons and journalists lined the place, together with other artists and high-society fans and music enthusiasts.

Even if the event held millions of opportunities, it simply wasn’t a scene for rock stars like them. It was boring. It was a relief when they manage to talk to people who were rock n roll fans, or _their_ fans, but disastrous whenever they met haters although Brian and most especially Freddie were sometimes able to charm their way out of the situation. Roger sometimes found cute high-society girls glancing at him, so he sometimes went to flirt with them, but he let them go after a few minutes, thinking that he had to focus tonight. They filled their dull moments with getting champagne or eating, anything to entertain them.

As John walked along the food table, he felt someone watching him at the corner of his eye. He turned to that direction and saw the very person they were excited about during the program, standing a few feet away from him with her head tilted and her eyes squinted as she stared at him. He supposed she was trying to figure out who he was. So, he smiled at her and gave her a small wave.

“John Deacon!”

He suddenly felt a pair of thin arms wrap around him. When she pulled away, he said, “Alice, I’m glad you still remember me. You sang beautifully. ”

She smacked his arm, an ear-to-ear smile pasted on her face. “What are you talking about? Of course, I remember you. And thank you, I’m glad you liked it. How are you? Are you with the rest of the boys?”

Like they’ve been friends for a long time, John then proceeds to tell her that he was getting married soon, and how the band had been doing well but their label made them go to the event, to which Alice laughs off, agreeing that the event was a little boring. He led her to where the rest of the band were huddled up, drinking champagne amongst themselves.

Brian was the one facing them and he was the tallest one, so when he spotted them approaching, he pointed at their direction. Freddie’s eyes widened and he wasted no time in running up to her, wrap his arms around her and spin her around in excitement, not letting her puffy ball gown stop him.

“I finally found you!” Freddie kissed her forehead sloppily, eliciting a smooch sound and a giggle from the girl. Roger chuckled at how they acted like they knew each other for so long. “You were great, darling!”

“Fred, be gentle,” Brian scolded, “She’s not a cat.”

Freddie just rolled his eyes at the curly man as Alice pulled away from the hug and moved to wrap her arms around Brian’s waist. “Don’t worry about me, Bri. That was two years worth of hugs from Freddie. I’m so proud of you guys!”

Brian smiled as he hugged her back. “As we are with you, Alice.”

She smiled up at him as a thankful gesture before she pulled away and turned to Roger.

“How’s my favorite pedophile?”

For some reason, that didn’t offend Roger. It really did feel like they met a week ago but she just magically transformed to a better-looking girl now. Like Cinderella. He feigned a mock hurt expression in his face as the others laugh.

“I’m not old!”

Brian immediately tries to explain what a pedophile is, but Roger cuts him off saying, “Oh, whatever. Just give me the hug.”

Alice laughed as she fulfilled his request. “Just kidding, Rog.”

Pulling away, he said, “You did great tonight, Al.”

She smiled at him just like she did with Brian, and asked everyone for the details of what happened to them in the past two years. They excitedly narrated to her about their story from the moment when the label called them asking for a management deal up to the day that they were made to go to the event that they were in. They tell her about their songs, and she tells them that she bought their albums the moment they arrived on the shelves. Freddie had warned her first that they were going to keep her for a long time since they were so bored and needed someone interesting to be with at the moment. Alice happily goes with it, saying that she’d been dying to see familiar faces around anyway.

“We really ought to thank you,” Brian started after a moment of silence passed between all of them. Alice looked at him inquisitively. “Well, especially Alex. I don’t think we’d get this far had Alex not endorse us to the producer.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, his smile soft. “We owe you.”

Alice smiled, her bright smile comforting amidst the tight-lipped faces that the place was teeming with. “Oh, please. All Alex did was talk. Everything was because of _you_.”

They all turned speechless, so she called up a nearby waiter who walked around with a tray of champagnes and made each one of them take one glassful. Roger smirked, taking the opportunity to comment that she’s really grown up now.

“Yup,” she said, “I’m a big girl now. I’m turning 20 this year, you know. No more brothers looking for me when I’m at a pub.”

They all laughed, remember the night when they met, but Roger continues, “So, it’s perfectly legal for me to flirt with you now, yeah?”

Alice didn’t even have to retort as the rest of the boys reacted violently against their bandmate. Brian rolled his eyes while John said, “You’ve got to be kidding, Rog,” and Freddie flicks his ear in contempt.

After the banter and laughter had stopped, Alice raised her glass, saying, “May you guys have a sky-high level of success in the near future, and may you manage not to kill each other before you get there. To Queen!”

They all broke into smiles, raised their glasses, cheered “To Queen!” and clicked them all together before downing each of their glasses in one go. Roger nods in silent appraisal at the fact that Alice did not scrunch her face anymore after she drank the alcoholic beverage.

“Oh, you know, darling,” Freddie started after they passed their empty glasses to a passing waiter and picked up champagne-filled glasses from another waiter, “I’ve been meaning to call you when we toured in New York, y’know, since I remembered you saying that we should call if we tour there but it’s a shame I wasn’t able to get your number after all.”

“You’re too late,” Alice chuckled, “I’ve moved to London now.”

“Permanently?” Brian asked while everyone raised their eyebrows as they realized that she was officially an actress based on the West End theatre now.

“Yes. After Les Miserables closes, I plan to attend uni.”

“Wasn’t that what you came to London for when we met?”

Alice shook her head, “I wasn’t able to take the admission exams. We… had some official business that suddenly needed attending to.”

They then hounded her with questions about what happened. She answered them as briefly as possible, about how they went back to New York and she decided to take an acting program at Juilliard instead. She never got to finish it, only lasted for one and a half years, since she and her sister were invited for a closed audition for certain roles in the London-based musical Les Miserables. When they landed the roles—she as Eponine and her sister as Fantine—they decided to permanently move to London. They’ve been there for about three months now, and they’ve just recently finished recording the musical songs in an album. They’ve also been performing for more than a month now at the Queen’s Theatre.

Asked if her sister was also an attendee of the event, she told them that the older actress wasn’t since she had other matters to attend to.

Alice noted that they seemed to focus on her as she talked but a part of her got iffy as she rambled on about her life, “You boys should really talk to more important people, you know I’m already a fan.”

“Nonsense,” Roger huffed. “You’re the most interesting thing that happened to us tonight.”

Alice chuckled, feeling rather sympathetic for the drummer. He wasn’t even just saying that to flatter her. The scene just wasn’t one meant for rock stars.

So, they stayed on chatting for a few more minutes before a certain Paul Prenter came along to remind them that they needed to split up and mingle with other people more. They stomped their feet but complied anyway, dreading the next conversations that they were going to face. All of them except Freddie said their goodbyes and ‘see you around’s to Alice. Freddie stayed with her, much to her delight, and they chatted more about the further details of what’s happened to their lives. Freddie told her the story of how Mary had accepted his wedding proposal and all about their tour experiences. Alice found herself laughing at their stupid antics, but it was oddly comforting because she found the English people she was surrounded with on a daily basis cold and snobbish. In return, she told him the story of how she landed the role in her current musical, and how she was already starting to miss New York.

In the end, Alice had to go home early since she was going to hitch a ride with a co-actor. They exchanged numbers and made promises to see each other again soon before saying goodbye.

Little did they know that that bleary event became the start of the tangling of their lives.


	6. Happy birthday, Roger!

_March 1975_

_“England celebrates as the Royal House of Windsor announces the engagement of Queen Elizabeth II’s second son, Prince George, to Lady Susan Xavier. Born in 1952, the bride-to-be is the daughter of the late Lieutenant General James Xavier, a British military war hero. Her mother was the late_ _Lillian Romanov-Xavier, the grandniece of the last Tsar of Russia, Nicholas II. Orphaned at 8 years of age, Lady Susan, her brothers, and younger sister were raised by their uncle in the United States, where they were homeschooled and trained at a very early age at the Juilliard School of Music in New York. Prior to the engagement, she found success in a musical theatre career but has made her final curtain call on the hit musical Les Miserables just last week. This is a form of her early retirement as she is set to move on to another career in royalty. Upon their marriage, they shall be created the Duke and Duchess of York.”_

“All the radios are talking about is about this Susan,” Paul Prenter, the band’s personal assistant, grumbles as he organizes the papers scattered in the tour bus they were in. “Even in America. Jesus.”

He was ultimately ignored. Freddie sat back on the couch beside the window, listening on to the news, somewhat glaring at the table where the abandoned scrabble pieces lay in front of him. Brian leaned back on the adjacent side of the bus, shaking his head.

“Relentless,” the tall guitarist mumbled under his breath, “the press latches on any piece of information they could get, huh.”

“Wow,” was all Roger could say as he sat across Freddie, absentmindedly pushing some scrabble pieces across the board.

His bandmates expected him to be knowledgeable and undeterred by the news, but honestly, Freddie was equally so. Alice had become closer to the band, especially him, ever since they met at the Eurovision Song Contest on October the previous year. They made it a point to chat over a cup of coffee or brunch from time to time—only during mornings since she performed almost every night and came out of the theatre past midnight. The two were interested in each other’s stories since they were both performers, but lived very differently. She came across him as a bit naïve and had a lot to learn about the real world, and he was very enthusiastic about showing it to her, not saving her from his straightforwardness, which she always seemed to be up for. Sometimes he brought Mary along, and the two girls have grown closer as well.

In late November that year, they held a concert at the Rainbow Theatre, London and Freddie insisted that she come to the after party if she can’t come off work that night to watch the concert itself. So, she did. She arrived half-past midnight, and everyone was starting to get piss-off drunk. It was there that she was really able to witness just how excessive and wild the band could party. Sure, the pub scene wasn’t new to her, but seeing Freddie spray alcohol everywhere while standing on a table and still manage to entertain everybody was something else. She also saw how Roger was draped with women all-night, sometimes even more than one at a time. John came out of his usual reserved shell and danced like his life depended on it. Brian was the ever gentle-giant, chattering to her about his many passions including science and rock music. Soon after, she got drunk herself, not piss-off, but drunk enough to ride along with their crazy antics—minus the flirting from Roger, of course. She can be fun, they decided. She fitted in.

Throughout their months of friendship, although they didn’t see each other so much when the band started touring the current year, the only thing she told him was that she was orphaned at five years old, and that she was amazed at her eldest brother Frederick and sister Susan for trying his best at filling their parents’ shoes. However, not once did she mention how her parents died, or that she was partly _Russian_ —and that she was technically blue-blooded herself.

He made a mental note to call her sometime soon.

When he did a few days later, he congratulated her sister through her, and she sounded cheerful about it, saying that she’ll be her sister’s maid-of-honor. When silence ensued, Freddie took it as a chance to say that he should go because the boys were waiting for their turn for the phone, but she suddenly blurted something out.

“I’m sorry I never told you about my… heritage,” she said, sounding small on the telephone, “I was just afraid that if you knew, you’d look at me differently. Like I’m some sheltered kid.”

Freddie suddenly had the urge to tell her a side of himself that he never willingly told anyone.

“Well, since we’re talking about heritage,” he started, “let me tell you something about myself, too, little dearie.”

He told her about where he was born, about his Parsi parents from India, and all about his childhood as an Indian boy. It was his way of saying that he didn’t fucking care how she came to existence. She was still the same friend that he knew.

After that conversation, they never talked about it again. Freddie never asked her how her parents died, and she never pressed him on for details about his childhood that he wasn’t too keen to talk about. And because the band talked like teenage schoolgirls most of their idle time stuck together in a bus for hours, they naturally wanted to talk about her sometimes, wanting to know what more of their background wasn’t presented in the media. Freddie shushed them, saying, “Why does it matter anyway?” What mattered more was the present and future for them.

When they returned home from their Sheer Heart Attack Tour on May, Freddie used some of his free time to watch Les Miserables, taking Mary with him. When he met with the band again, he gushed about it so much that Veronica and Chrissie, Brian’s new wife, forced their boyfriends to accompany them to see it, too.

Later on that month, Freddie decided to bring her along after having brunch with her one morning to their rehearsals. She became fascinated by their dynamics, which she found different from how theatre people work together. Bands work more intimately with each other, and their fights were usually more intense. It was during those few months of the band’s rest from recording and touring that she was able to bond with the band—sober this time. There were times when she was able to swing by the studio during their rehearsals, sometimes bringing them food. She even found friends among the studio personnel, and not long after, her short visits became considered to be normal in their space.

On July 26, 1975, she was invited to Roger’s birthday party, for which he closed down the Culpeper at the Commercial Street. He said it cost a bit more than a few pounds, but it should be worth it. He wanted to be shit faced drunk at the very center of the capital. He wouldn’t take no for an answer from her. She said she didn’t have time to get him a gift, but he said there was no need for it.

So, she did arrive—on a decent hour this time, 8 PM sharp. When she got out of her dark green second-hand 1967 Volkswagen beetle that she parked a little less than a block away from the venue, she was already able to hear its noise and Led Zeppelin’s _Whole Lotta Love_ muffled by the brick walls of the pub. She paused beside her car and checked her reflection for a moment, trying to see if her outfit was okay. She decided to do a simple outfit of dark jeans tucked into a pair of brown, shortly heeled leather boots, and a black sleeveless blouse that hung not too tightly on her. It was in the middle of summer, but just in case the London temperature dared to drop, she wrapped a checkered scarf around her neck, covering the locket that she wore on a regular basis. She blinked a few times as she walked, trying to keep her contact lenses in place as the chilly air dried up her eyes.

When she entered the place, it was brimming with people—including die-hard fans and groupies—dancing, singing, drinking, and mingling. She knew no one among the crowd. She walked further inside and was washed all over with relief when a voice rang behind her.

“Hello, darling!”

When she turned around, Freddie kissed both of her cheeks and shoved a shot glass in her hand, telling her to drink up. She complied, and before she knew it, the glass was whisked out of her hand and she was being dragged somewhere.

“Come, baby girl,” Freddie said, soberer than she expected. “I’ll take you to the birthday boy.”

She bumped into many people on the way, and she apologized each time. When they finally stopped somewhere, Freddie presented her to a huddled group consisting of Brian, John, Mary, Veronica, Chrissie, and Roger himself. She stepped forward to hug the drummer.

“Happy birthday, Rog!”

He gave her a gentle squeeze before he kissed the side of her head. “Thank you, love.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so early, Al,” Brian said, amused. They’ve taken to call her by a shortened version of her name now.

She turned to face them after she pulled away from Roger. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing keeping me now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve made my final curtain call last week,” she said, smiling.

“I haven’t even seen it yet,” Roger said, frowning. Alice knew better than to believe him—he hated musicals.

Alice chuckled, “That’s too bad. It might be my last theatre appearance ever. I’ve decided to push through with uni.”

After that, they drank colossal amounts of alcohol, celebrating both Roger’s 26th birthday and her finally being able to pursue what she really wanted in her life.

Later that night, Alice found herself walking towards the balcony in need of fresh air—as fresh as London could offer. The world was starting to become hazy, and she needed to sober up little because she needed to drive home. She really hoped Susan wasn’t there when she got home. She rested her arms on the rail and bent down to rest her head on them as well.

“Are you okay?”

She sprung up and turned to see where the voice was coming from. There stood the blonde birthday boy, a box of Marlboros in his hand, a look of concern on his face.

“Yeah,” she smiled the best that she could before she returned to her previous position, “Just drunk.”

She heard Roger stop beside her, lighting up a cigarette and mumble, “Lightweight.”

“Oh, shut up.”

She may have been an enigma to him because of her unconventional life experiences or background that they never seem to talk about, but it was because of this easy conversation that Roger felt easy around her. It was just as if he was talking to a feminine version of Brian or John. She became a friend. He never had a female friend who wasn’t someone’s girlfriend or wife before.

When she lifted her head up from her arms, he offered her a cigarette.

“No, thanks,” she said, smiling politely.

“You don’t smoke?”

“Nope. Makes the voice raspy.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, she turns her head to look at him. “What are you doing out here?” He was supposed to be getting shit face drunk inside.

He looked at her playfully and replied, “Making my voice raspy.”

She rolled her eyes at him and looked back out at the city lights as the silence continued.

As he lit up another cigarette, he decided to start the conversation again.

“Are you serious about leaving music, Al?”

He couldn’t understand why she would want to. He did everything he could very early in his life to get out of his small town and later on, to get out of his dentistry degree and pursue music. So, why would she want to do the reverse?

“Why?” she said, a frisky glint in her eye, “Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You hate my music.”

He chuckled, “Well, we people with high pitched voices need to keep our numbers up or else we’re going to be replaced by flutes.”

She laughed, “I highly doubt that.”

Her laughter was contagious, and he found himself laughing with her.

“Don’t worry,” she said when they calmed down. “I’ll still work as a part-time vocal teacher in the Academy of Music.”

“Wow. That’s a creative school name.”

“You’re one to talk. Queen II? Really?”

He laughed, “Oi! You know I didn’t agree on that name either.”

Eventually, they got down from their high. After a few moments of silence, she said, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without it, you know.”

“Me, too,” he said, looking at the city lights in front of him. “I’ve been addicted to it since I was a kid, too. Just a little less sophisticated as you.”

“But look where you are now, huh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “quite a big leap for a small-town boy.”

She turned her head to look at him, her big green eyes brimming with curiosity. He’d never done it with any of the girls he’d been with, not even Mary, Veronica or Chrissie, but he told her how he grew up in a small town, Truro, and how he always dreamed of becoming a big man—bigger than life. He started out with a ukulele, and then a guitar. Then he began banging cheap drums when he was still a kid, and he found out that he worked best with drums. So, he joined his first band during high school. He wanted his music to be heard and appreciated by as many people as possible. He wanted to be rich and famous and live the fast life, unlike the lifestyle he led when as he grew up.

He expected her to be a little repelled by his statements, but she wasn’t. She just listened on, nodding and affirming him as she absorbed the information. Then he realized that this was one of the very rare times that they were starting to have a conversation that _wasn’t_ about music. If they weren’t talking about music, they were having a friendly banter over nonsense. So, he tried to push his luck further.

“How about you?” he asked. “What’s your story?”

Much to his delight, she entertained his question. Without hesitation.

“Well,” she started, “my mother taught me—us—how to sing since we began to talk.”

She then told him that when their parents died, they went to live in New York and their uncle did his best to give them the best music training that New York had to offer. They were too young to know what they really wanted, but their uncle’s decision went well for them. Frederick may have gone another course in life, and Alex switched to jazz studies, but she and Susan were given opportunities to perform in prestigious stages.

“Sometimes I think they only cast me because my voice blends well with hers,” she said, her eyes looking forward but unfocused as if she was reminiscing something. She then chuckled and shook her head, “I always was in her shadow. Sometimes it sucked but most of the time I kind of like it.”

She continued to tell him that she wanted to take on an odd degree—computing—because, besides the fact that she really did like math and logic, she wanted to have her own track and that she wanted to experience what it was like to live quietly.

Roger stared at her. He was finally starting to understand her even just a little. He realized that despite her many talents, social privilege, her unique childhood, she was more human than he thought.


	7. Bohemian Rhapsody

_November 10, 1975_

The label was adamant to squeeze a huge hit from Queen. The biggest one yet. Its solution was to put them in isolation in a bloody farm hundreds of miles away from home just so the boys can produce the best album that the world was going to hear.

No breaks.

No distractions.

They scheduled 2 months of pure focus on composing and recording.

But now they were already in their 3rd month, a full month of delay, and the producers were livid. It didn’t help that their expenses have bloated way beyond their budget.

They have finished recording and compiling the album five days ago. It was a tense month for everyone, the arguments got more frequent and more intense. It only started with the song arrangements and mixing. And then it moved on to what the album name should be. The worst was brought out of them when it came to which tracks they should include in the album. At the very least they were unanimous in what song should be their single—Freddie’s _Bohemian Rhapsody_. But besides that, they fought over everything. Roger wanted his song _I’m In Love With My Car_ as the B-side of _Bohemian Rhapsody_ so bad that he locked himself in a cupboard until Freddie succumbed. The boys weren’t pleased with the song and the stressiest Roger they have ever seen, but they decided that their best revenge was to make the cruelest jokes out of it.

The album really was good, but it was the album that would make or break them in their place in the music industry. There was no room for error, no room for pride—they needed all the opinions they could get before they launched the single out to the world.

So, Freddie made it a point to send a copy of the album to his closest musically gifted friend, Alice Xavier.

The rest of the boys were a little hesitant, a little worried that the producers might get irked about the fact that they sent it out without permission from the label. Also, they would have preferred Alex Xavier’s opinion since he was more educated than her regarding the opera. But they didn’t know where he was—even Alice didn’t know where he was.

It had been much easier to contact her for the past few months ever since she’d quit theatre. She became available at more normal hours of the day, such as 8 o’clock in the evening. They also didn’t have to worry if she was too tired to talk—well, Freddie never cared anyway—because she had a less pressing schedule now.

A week after Roger’s birthday party, she’d started teaching voice lessons at the Academy of Music as she said. Then she took the admission exams for the University of her choice, Imperial College, Brian’s Alma matter. She’d started taking classes for a month now with the undergraduate degree of computing. It still seemed like a handful, but she liked it. She never liked being idled. She also wasn’t very attracted to college parties. She tried a few times with the students she met at uni, but her sister’s engagement to the prince made it hard for her to be left at peace. Journalists started to appear out of nowhere and seemed to clone themselves as the wedding got closer. So, she stuck with the boys’ girlfriends as company, since she rarely ever got to see her sister anyway. Freddie adored her more when he observed that Alice rapidly became close to Mary, looking up to the blonde like she would with an older sister.

So, they were pretty confident that Alice would call them back soon when she’d finally received the album they mailed.

"So, what do you think, dear?"

The boys sat in their respective stools as they watched Freddie on the phone with her. All the other three band members listened intently on Alice's voice that sounded like chattering on Freddie's ear.

"Uh huh," Freddie said, nodding as he listened to her.

" _I like it! It's very... rock and roll,_ " she said, a little less enthusiastic than Freddie hoped to hear.

"Really? Well, there were other sections that weren't rock and roll, dear. How about the operatic section?"

_"Operatic section? It didn't seem to have one. Anyway, I loved the riff and all, and it had very... interesting lyrics. I love them, too," she chuckled. "But I do wonder, though. You wrote the song, right? Why have Roger sing the lead?"_

Freddie sighed in frustration and pinched his nose as a realization hit him. "No, not that. The other side, darling. I would never write a song about fucking a car."

"Hey!" Roger yelled as Brian and John chuckled.

Alice exclaimed, _"Ooh! I see, I see!"_ almost as if she was relieved before she laughed. Brian and John laughed a bit louder as Roger huffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. _"So, it was..._ Bohemian Rhapsody _all along?"_

Freddie chuckled, "Yes, dear."

"All right," some shuffling was heard on the background. "Please give me a few minutes."

Then she hung up. Seven minutes of silence ensued in the studio. Tense silence.

Then the phone rang. The first ring didn’t even end yet when Freddie picked it up.

“ _Freddie._ ”

“Have you heard it yet? It’s the six-minute song, darling.”

“ _This is like all kinds of music compressed into 6 minutes. Thank you for representing us._ ”

So, was that a good thing?

_“This is the best song I’ve ever heard.”_

Freddie slapped the desk in front of him in relief. The boys let out the breath they didn’t even realize they were holding.

_“Whatever Norman says, this goes, okay? This will shake the world, Fred. I just know it.”_

The next week, Freddie barged in during her vocal class. It wasn’t the first time he ambushed her in the academy, but the first time it happened, he waited until her class was over. The school faculty and staff whispered amongst themselves as they saw him, of course. Freddie Mercury was in the area!

“They refused to release it as the single.”

Alice looked back and forth between her confused students, a group of eight children from ages four to 10 years old, who sat still in their stools, and Freddie, who was standing by the door, with his hands on his waist. He looked frustrated.

She then glanced at the clock above the door.

The class had only 15 minutes until it ended.

“Alright, class,” she clapped her hands, “why don’t we go home early today?”

Thankfully, the children cheered. It was already 7:15 in the evening, and they sure were starving already.

So, they filed out the door diligently, greeting Freddie “good evening, Mr. Mercury!” on their way out. This seemed to pacify the rock star as he greeted them back kindly.

“Don’t forget the morning vocal exercises I mentioned earlier!” she called out as they walked out. She turned to Freddie.

“What’s up, Fred?”

Freddie didn’t waste a moment before he ranted to her how they met with the producers a day after they got home. The label insisted that other songs, more ‘suitable’ songs, such as _You’re My Best Friend_ or “Roger’s fucking car song” should be made the single since it fit the three-minute mark. They threatened Norman that he was going to lose Queen if he didn’t accept _Bohemian Rhapsody._

“Then let him lose Queen.”

Freddie stopped flailing about and just stared at her in disbelief.

“Fred, I’m telling you,” she said, sounding sure of herself. “That song is going to blow the charts. I may not be very well-immersed in the mainstream music industry, but I know what I’m talking about.”

She stepped closer to the rock star. “If you could just get one radio station to play it, it’ll do the job.”

 _Brilliant_.

The hug that Freddie gave her that night was the tightest hug she’d ever received in her life.

A few minutes later, they found themselves chatting about anything under the sun again, mostly about what happened during their time in Rockfield. Alice almost fell to the ground laughing when she heard what Roger did to get what he wanted.

When they calmed down, Alice took the opportunity to ask what _Bohemian Rhapsody_ meant.

“Oh, it’s just a mumble jumble of nonsense words that fit together, darling.”

Alice neither nodded nor shook her head. She just stared at him in disbelief. It was the first time that she felt Freddie lied to her.

“Really now?”

She had her theories as to what the song meant. Freddie was coming out as queer.

But she kept silent about it. She wanted to hear it from him.

“Yes, darling,” he said nonchalantly, quickly diverting the topic. “Now, amuse me, dear. How’s uni?”

So, she answered his question. She told him about how hard it was to adjust to having a different structure of learning, and how bleary college parties were compared to the band’s style of partying. She then told him that they had to leave soon because the school was about to close its gates.

Before they parted, she said, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Freddie just smiled at her before he said that he knew and that he hoped they saw each other again before they left for another tour soon.

Freddie convinced his other good friend Kenny Everett to play the song on his radio station. He played it 14 times on the first day.

The song topped the international charts _again_ 16 years later.


	8. New York

_January 28, 1976_

_“The world watches as the newlywed Prince George and Princess Susan walk out of the halls of Westminster Abbey. Over 17 million viewers have been tallied here in the U.S. alone, and over 27 million who watched the ceremony live in the U.K. The royal couple waves to their…”_

The radio blared on as they had breakfast in their trusty tour bus on their way to Boston. They ate in silence as they passively listened to the news about their homeland, and the quiet hum of the vehicle they were in.

Roger scrunches his sandwich wrapper into a ball before binning it. “So, which cities are we going to head off to after Boston?”

They left England only a week prior to that day for the U.S. leg of their _Night At the Opera_ Tour. The album turned out to be a gigantic success—they were even bigger stars now, and their new contract assured that they are able to live like it, too. Their dreams were coming true.

Brian chewed on as he grabbed a piece of paper beside him and read it out loud with his mouth still full. “Upper Darby, New York City and then we get two days off there.”

Roger nodded as he moved to lie down on the couch near the window where John sat, peacefully reading a book.

“Get off me, Roger!”

“Oh, piss off, Deacy,” Roger said, adjusting his head on the bassist’s lap and closing his eyes. “I want to go back to sleep.”

John just let out a deep sigh. During his first moments with the band, he thought that they did it to test him—to see what would annoy him. He was a pretty reserved person, after all. But not long after, he realized that Roger was really just a touchy person. All of his bandmates were touchy persons. There were times when their quarrels would become so bad, and then the next thing he knew, he was stuck to their bodies like they were a bunch of puppies. He just had to accept it. It became a normal thing for them.

He rested his book on the drummer’s head and continued reading.

“Oh goody,” Freddie said, crossing his legs loosely as he sipped his morning coffee. “Let’s see the city.”

“Yeah, let’s get a tour guide,” Brian said, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

_“…the maid-of-honor follows the princess as she carries…”_

“I have the grandest idea.”

* * *

"No.”

_“Please, baby girl?”_

“I said no, Freddie,” Alice said as forceful as she could over the telephone. She carried it as she went to sit on the window seat, overlooking the street. Her flat, which was owned by her uncle, was located on the second floor of the building, so she had quite a view.

Freddie Mercury was the most persuasive person she had ever met. She swore if he took on law or ran for a political position, he would _thrive_.

“The term’s already started and I’ve got a million papers stacked because of my sister’s wedding--,”

“ _Just this once, Alice. You’ve never once watched our gigs!”_

“Yes, I have… about four years ago.”

“ _During the dark ages of us in our ragtag youth performing in local pubs. Please come see us now that we’re fabulous! Plus, it’s in New York! You miss New York, don’t you? Just for a few days, please.”_

Alice sighed. It was really difficult to put up a fight with him. He might as well argue with Margaret Thatcher about communism in the United Kingdom and still win.

She looked at the stacks of unfinished design projects that were stacked on the coffee table. She then turned her head to face the window, and her eyes focused on two journalists standing near the gate of the building. They had their cameras hanging from their necks, and they were talking to each other, so they haven’t seen her yet.

She gasped before she rapidly flew off the seat and sat down on the floor, hiding from lurking eyes outside.

It had only been two days since her sister’s grand royal wedding. The whole country thought that they were now living in a dream come true—she was now part of the extended family of the queen. They thought that she now had all the privileges life had to offer: priority, freedom, and fame.

Susan obviously gained those—except the freedom part. But in reality, Alice had none of those things. The press was latching on to her every move to find dirt on her sister. Everything she did now would reflect on her sister—the new Princess of England, the newest prey of the British tabloids. The monarchy was crumbling, and the press knew that. Her sister had to look pristine to save it.

Alice, Frederick, and Alex knew what they were going into when they gave their blessing for her sister to marry Prince George. They knew the stakes. They just wanted their sister to be happy… and safe. Still, not being able to go to and from uni or work without a smile _sucked_. Sometimes Alice was in a bad mood, but she had to be nice to everybody or else rumors about her being snobbish would start. It will be followed by rumors about her sister being snobbish.

Good for Frederick because he was enclosed in military training at the Trenchard Lines in Wiltshire, and Alex because he didn’t fucking reside in the country at all. But she did. She had to go through it every single day for the past two months.

It was exhausting.

“ _Alice, darling?”_

It would be nice to get out of the country even just for a short time.

“I’ll think about it, Freddie.”

So, eight days later, Alice found herself facing the all too familiar backstage entrance of Beacon Theatre on Broadway, New York City. When she walked outside the airport earlier that afternoon, she felt exhilarated. She was home again so spontaneously. There were no journalists—no one even bothered to look at her!

The boys had also asked Mary, Veronica, and Chrissie to tag along, but they had other important matters to attend to. Mary can’t get off work, Veronica had to look after her babe, and Chrissie… well, she couldn’t remember anymore. Her mind just flew off to imagine what she wanted to do in New York.

It was when she walked down the busy streets that she realized that she felt so homesick. Earlier that week she had already finished all of her schoolwork and has already listed all the lessons she was going to miss during her absence from school. She also took a few days off of work. She decided to savor her few days in the place that felt more familiar to her than London ever did.

Although she had a different accent, the American accent was still the one she felt most comfortable hearing. She even made it a point to use the accent whenever she sang. As for the city itself, the lights blinded her more than what she was accustomed to now, but its incessant call for the people to wake up even if the sun was down was comforting. As she walked from the hotel to the theatre, she had bumped into a former co-actor. He was a warm person. She knew he was busy, but he stopped just to ask her how she’s been. He even updated her about the recent happenings in Broadway. It was nice to feel worthy of someone’s time even if he’s just an acquaintance.

When she rounded the theatre to the backstage entrance, the security personnel were quick to grant her entry when she said her name. A VIP card was slung around her neck and she was free to roam the backstage.

She figured out where to find the dressing rooms. She passed a hall lined with doors with the four band members’ names on it. They were all closed, but as she walked further towards the door at the end of the hall, the muffled boisterous voices of the boys became clearer. Finding it slightly open, she pushed it further. When she walked in, she saw Freddie dressed in a checkered bodysuit and ballet flats, and Roger and John running around shirtless. Brian looked the most ridiculous of all—he was warming up in a corner, fully dressed in what looked like a pleated skirt as a shirt and flared white trousers.

“Put on a goddamn shirt, Roger!”

“I lost my shoe!”

She cleared her throat. A beat of silence ensued as their heads whipped to look at her.

“DARLING!”

Their usual pleasantries then followed that. When Roger kissed her hand and called her “the most talked about maid-of-honor”, she had to roll her eyes. There was a little pang of frustration—she really didn’t need to be reminded.

But Roger didn’t notice that. In fact, none of them did. They were too focused on getting ready for the show—as focused as they can be. They mostly just goofed around and their staff indulged them. She realized that that was the first time she’s seen them get ready for a gig. They were easy-going. Freddie was jumping around; Roger was hitting the table with his drumsticks, and Brian and John were silently warming their hands up with unplugged electric and bass guitars. Every once in a while they joked around with her, and she always mentioned how much she hated Brian’s outfit but for some reason, it _worked_.

It was also the first time that she’d seen them perform so close. She stayed in the right wing offstage, standing next to Jim Beach—“Miami”, as dubbed by Freddie. John was the one nearest them. She watched them get lost to their very own music, which has tremendously improved over the years. Their overall performance had improved, too. John had definitely gotten more confident, and he bobbed his body to the beat and occasionally spun as he played. Brian mostly stood still in his pleated outfit, focused on his part. Roger almost looked like he was dancing—drumming was an intense physical activity, you see. And Freddie? Wow, Freddie owned his peculiar body suit. He owned the whole theatre.

 _Night At the Opera_ was a million times better than all of their past albums combined and they knew it.

But Alice already knew they were geniuses in their craft. She knew them outside of their craft. At least, she thought she did.

Eventually, the show ended and the band took the time to entertain the VIP fans, those who were given the chance to meet and greet the band members. Expectedly so, a lot of those fans were female, and Roger handpicked one or two whom he fancied and they immediately latched on to him. But when she saw Brian do it, she was shocked. During the backstage meet-and-greet, she was in denial.

No, Brian wouldn’t do that. He had a wife. He’s a good guy. She could have been mistaken. His long fingers on that blonde floozy fan's thigh could have been just a coincidence.

When she looked at John, even _he_ was surrounded by girls.

Then there was an afterparty at an exclusive pub just a block away. She came with them. Not long after though, Roger disappeared presumably with that curvy brunette he had on his arm. That didn’t shock her.

Then after a few rounds of drinks from Freddie, she saw Brian with the blonde floozy again. She was on his lap now, and they weren’t eating each other’s faces off but they were getting there. So, she looked around for a sign of John.

None.

Could he have done what Roger did, too?

And then she found Freddie… walking out with a tall, muscular Latino.

Did they do this every time when they toured?

So, the rockstar lifestyle was true?

She needed to get out of here.


	9. Call me 'Deacy'

Her legs took her to her safe haven as if by muscle memory. It wasn’t that near, but it wasn’t that far either. She walked for 30 minutes straight. But it was dark, and she was getting nearer the impoverished areas of the city. She ought to be worried, but she was too stunned right now.

When she reached her destination, a dark alleyway with a door in its dead end, she entered it, and sighed in relief as she saw the silhouette of the familiar large man who guarded the place she cherished the most when she was just an adolescent girl. She walked towards him, and she was slowly starting to feel at peace when suddenly a voice rang a few feet behind her.

“Alice?”

She almost screamed. Good thing a yelp was the only thing that came out of her mouth as she turned around to face her perpetrator.

“John?”

The bassist looked confused as he tried to catch his breath. When he was finally close enough to her he said, “You really ought to call me ‘Deacy’ now. You’ve been with us long enough.”

She would have found that funny or flattering, but she was somehow stunned yet again by someone from the band.

“Alright,” she said, her eyes wide, “Deacy, what are you doing here?”

“I was out for a smoke just outside the entrance and then I saw you running out like you were scared so I decided to follow you.”

Oh, sweet, innocent Deacy.

How was she supposed to tell him that she ran away because she couldn’t bear to witness infidelity from her closest friends? How was she supposed to tell him that she was utterly disappointed but she knew it wasn’t her place to intervene?

Instead, she blurted out, “Deacy, you shouldn’t be here.”

That only left him more confused and his face showed it.

She sighed. “How the hell did you get past your security anyway?”

His eyes suddenly became mischievous. “That’s the upside of being the quiet one. Nobody really pays attention to yah.”

She managed a small smile because of that. But before she could say another word, a shadow was cast on her as someone loomed over her from behind. Deacy audibly gulped.

“Is everything alright, Alice?”

Alice turned around to see Jack, an African-American bouncer who had to be at least 400 lbs. and about as tall as Brian. His face was always stern, and people were naturally afraid of him. But Alice knew better. He was a gentle giant as well.

“Jack!”

She threw her arms around his waist, as far as they can go around. The man smiled, much to Deacy’s relief.

“Oh, Jack, I missed you!” she pulled away.

“We missed you, too, little girl,” the bouncer said, his deep voice becoming defensive again. “Who’s this?”

Alice hesitated for a moment, but it was too late to send Deacy away now.

“Oh,” she said, pulling Deacy to stand beside her. “This is Deacy--,”

Oh, shit. She should have said ‘John’.

Luckily, Deacy didn’t seem to mind. He smiled calmly and continued for her, “a friend. From England.”

When Jack let them inside Alice’s destination, Deacy’s jaw dropped.

As soon as he walked inside the door, his ears were filled with the most soulful music he had ever heard.

It was like a whole new world to him. It was a jazz club, filled mostly with African-American people dancing, singing, drinking—just enjoying the music coming from the small stage at the other end of the room. It was quaint, and he thought it could use a better ventilation system or better yet, a window. But O’Jays’s _For The Love of Money_ was blaring inside the room, and he loved it. The singer was singing his throat out and the instrumentalists were lost in their own parts. He loved the sound of pop-soul-jazz-bass fusion normally from what was considered black music. It was a preference that was not shared by his bandmates, so he just let it go, only listening to it whenever he was alone.

“So, this,” Alice started as she presented the place to him “…is where I really grew up.”

He was speechless.

“Come, I’d like you to meet some friends.”

* * *

 

Frederick and Alex were the first ones to discover the jazz club. Once during music class, they mentioned to a teacher how restraining the training was in the Juilliard pre-college program. Seeing passion from the two boys, the teacher took it upon himself to show them the beauty of raw music in a jazz club situated in an abandoned building near the Bronx. Her two brothers immediately loved it and got excited to take their two sisters there. Alice was only 10 years old at the time—all four of them were still adolescents—but it was a non-issue to the employees and musicians. In fact, even if the four were the palest people who ever set foot in the place, nobody cared. The people were welcoming and warm and the siblings loved them immediately.

Three single middle-aged African-American women named Norma, Rose and Cindy took her and Susan under their wing and taught them all about performing on stage. They didn’t use the traditional methods of teaching. Instead, they showed the girls what it was like to really make the audience feel the music, which was something they struggled with because prioritizing vocal technique was drilled into them at a very young age.

Apart from music, the three women also taught them things that her mother would have if she had been alive. They were the ones who taught her and Susan how to handle their first menstruation, they were there when Susan broke up with her first boyfriend, and they were the ones who comforted them when Frederick went away for law school in England.

And now she was with them again, seated around a round table, drinking cocktails… with Deacy.

“What kind of name is ‘Deacy’?”

“It’s short for ‘Deacon’, my last name,” he said.

Deacy smiled cheerily as he answered. Thankfully, he didn’t look like he was offended or put off. Alice knew that the women could be crass.

Rose mumbled, “Familiar name,” and Norma eyed him suspiciously.

“You sure you’re not Alice’s boyfriend?”

He chuckled. “Oh, Christ, no, we’re just friends,” then he proudly said, “I’m married.”

Immediately, the three women visibly softened up. They even cooed. Alice did too deep inside.

“Do you have kids?”

“Oh, how far along?”

He answered everything with such vigor that she almost forgot that he was a reserved person. She felt awed by his loyalty and obvious devotion to his wife—even if she wasn’t around.

That night Alice sat back, relaxed as she sipped her cocktails. She laughed as she watched Rose and Cindy getting Deacy to dance to funk music. She knew Deacy was into that, and the ear-to-ear smile on his face was a clear indicator. Deacy danced even if he wasn’t drunk.

So, they walked home that night around 2 AM back to the hotel. It was a long way, but Deacy had a bounce in his step that she felt glad about.

As they walked, talking comfortably with each other, Alice couldn’t help but marvel over how humble and loyal Deacy remained. It was admirable to see as his bandmates have clearly gotten their heightened fame into their heads. When they passed an area that had a lot of people not batting them an eye, Deacy said that he found it nice that nobody paid attention to him.

“You know, that club is really sacred to me,” she said after he stopped chattering about how much he had fun and that he wanted to show it to the other boys. “And I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”

He looked at her, confused. “But why?”

She couldn’t figure out how to act around them at the moment. For the first time, she felt uncomfortable thinking about her next meeting with them.

When she stayed silent, Deacy’s face morphed with concern.

“What made you leave the pub earlier tonight, Alice?”

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again.

How was she supposed to go back to London and face their beaus? She felt that she too was part of the lies now.

“It’s just disappointing when the people you really looked up to do things that you never really thought they could do, you know?”

Deacy went silent for a few moments, trying to understand. When he finally did, he looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Alice,” he said. “A lot goes on during tours, you see. With the constant pressure--,”

“But you handle it differently,” she then shook her head. “What am I saying? I’m not in a position to judge.”

He smiled sadly. He knew it was wrong to hide it even if their partners straightforwardly asked him if they ever cheated.

He knew he should say something, but thankfully the young woman walking beside him changed the topic.

“So,” she started, trying to sound like her normal self. “What would you guys want to do tomorrow? We can go to the museums like the Met. We could also go on food trips.”

Deacy smiled in relief. They went on to chatter comfortably again until they separated into their respective hotel rooms.

* * *

 

The next day, Alice woke up around noontime yet she still found herself waiting in her hotel room almost all afternoon for a call from either one of them. Not that she was very excited about meeting them anyway. So, she used the idle time to read some of the lessons from the classes she missed that week. She also took a nap, which was really refreshing since she’s been sleep-deprived for the past four weeks because of the bloody royal wedding.

When she finally received the phone call, it was already past 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and it was from a groggy, hung-over Roger. He told her to meet them in the hotel restaurant where they would have a late lunch together with the rest of the boys. She felt her stomach grumble when she realized she hadn’t eaten all day.

When she got there, Deacy, Roger, and Brian were already seated around the round table, the latter two looking haggard as _fuck_. She sat down next to the drummer.

“Good morning?” she greeted amusedly. She chuckled when Roger glared at her. Brian tried to give her the best smile he could muster.

“Where’s Freddie?” she asked.

Deacy answered, “He’s running late.”

“He’s always late,” Roger grumbled as he covered his face with his hand.

“It’s a beautiful day, darlings!”

Roger and Brian groaned when Freddie’s boisterous voice rang behind them.

“Be quiet, Freddie,” Brian said, clearly annoyed. Freddie sat next to him.

As they ate their late meal, Alice kept quiet as they chatted mostly about how their show went last night. Well, it was mostly Freddie, and Brian and Roger were trying to keep up. Deacy was mostly silent. They asked her what she thought about it and she showered them with her comments—mostly good, of course.

“So, where are you taking us today, Al?”

All eyes were suddenly on her. She glanced at her watch. 5:05 PM.

“It’s a little too late for museums now,” she said, a little unsure now.

“There must be other attractions in the city, darling,” Freddie said, looking forward.

“We could go see the Statue of Liberty. Or take a stroll in Central Park--,”

“No, wait,” Brian interrupted, resting his face on his hand now. He looked like shit. “I don’t think I can handle walking around soon. Do you think we can still have someplace to see in the evening?”

“This is the city that never sleeps, yeah?” Roger chimed, clearly wanting to lie down as well.

“Yes, that’s fine. I kind of want to see the nightlife here,” Freddie said, sounding more curious. “Maybe even lovely hidden gems lying around, you know?”

She was about to say a random nightclub or park… but Deacy was staring at her so weirdly that even Freddie noticed.

“What’s going on?” Freddie asked, looking back and forth at the two.

Alice sighed. Who can say no to Deacy?

“I do have one place in mind.”


	10. Jazz

When Alice asked their drivers to drop them off that quiet street near the slums, they were excited. Now as Freddie, Brian and Roger walked closer to the entrance, they increasingly believed that she was planning to kill them. But one reassuring glance from Deacy was enough to placate them, and so they continued to follow the girl.

When they finally got inside, they were equally amazed as their bassist was in his own first time. They were hearing legit American Blues, and it was awesome. The people in it were not the kind of people they expected Alice to be so drawn to. They continued to marvel over the place as Alice explained to them as she did with Deacy the previous night—just a little less enthusiastically, the bassist noted.

They already reached halfway towards the stage when a woman’s voice with an African-American English accent rang behind them.

“Is that _Deacy?_ ” she asked, putting the emphasis on the bassist’s name.

They all turned around to see Norma, Cindy and Rose again. Deacy gave them a kind wave.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted. His bandmates looked at him in shock.

“Wait, you know them?” Roger asked him. Deacy opened his mouth to speak, but Alice pushed past him and Roger to face the three women as they approached.

“Ali, baby,” Norma started as her group stopped in front of theirs. “Who are these other British boys with you, hmm?”

She was about to introduce them but then Rose spoke first. “Okay, she’s brought so many boys in a span of two days. There’s gotta be a boyfriend there somewhere.”

The three hung-over men looked utterly confused.

“What do you mean two--,”

“No, wait!” Cindy exclaimed, silencing Brian’s question. “I’ll guess which hairy boy is the boyfriend.”

She took a good look at each one of them before she grabbed Roger’s arm. “I think it’s the blonde one. He looks young enough.”

The other two women hummed their agreement. Roger’s face morphed from confused to smug. Alice rolled her eyes at him.

“But I can assure you, ladies, that _I_ am the most fabulous one,” Freddie said, always determined not to be outshined.

“Oh, I like you already,” Norma said, smiling at Freddie. The frontman gave her a cheeky, confident smile. It was nice to see him smile so openly, not covering his mouth as he did on camera.

“Okay!” Alice exclaimed forcefully enough to silence everyone around her. “He’s not my boyfriend and if ever I do get one, it _won’t_ be one of them.”

When the boys started to protest, she had to exclaim something again to carry on with the introductions.

She introduced the three women to the band, and then vice versa—this time specifically saying that they were the members of Queen.

“Holy smokes,” Norma said, amazed. “Who would have known _Deacy_ was a rockstar?”

“No wonder his name sounded familiar!”

After that, the three women started to show the boys around, reminiscent of how they did with her and Susan 11 years ago. They got on well together to her relief. They loitered the place, asking the musicians so many questions that may have flustered them.

It was a relatively quiet club for the boys, but it was fitting because another night like their recent one would bring damage to their eardrums and their livers. They also needed a night without temptation.

Eventually, Alex arrived in the club. When Alice spotted him, he was already animatedly talking to Roger and Brian. She approached the three.

"Yes, well that particular theatre's got impeccable acoustics. You guys should try--,"

"Alex." She said, appearing behind Brian. She stood in between the guitarist and the drummer.

Alex's face started to morph from excited to unreadable the instant his eyes landed on her. She furrowed her brows at him in confusion. Alex looked at her like that when something was gravely wrong.

A few moments must have passed that they just stared at each other because Alex noticed that Roger and Brian were looking at them back and forth. 

So, the lanky musician cleared his throat and said, "Excuse us. I need to talk to my sister." He stepped forward and grabbed Alice's forearm gently and led her away from the crowd. The two Queen members shrugged and went on to mingle with the others.

Roger didn’t like dancing, so he stayed near the bar, laughing and drinking as the others were on the dance floor. Freddie looked like he was break dancing, trying to pull Brian into doing it too, and well, Deacy was being _Deacy._

The idle drummer was already tipsy when he spotted the two again. They were in a dark upstairs balcony overlooking the club. Alice looked visibly upset, pacing in front of her brother and running her hands through her scalp frantically every once in a while.

That was the first time Roger saw her upset. She'd always been a calm girl. Very unlike himself.

Roger kept stealing glances towards their direction for a few minutes. He was intrigued and he wasn't sure why. In his fourth glance, Alice was only standing with her head low and her shoulders heaving while Alex, slightly bent down to her level, was talking.

In the fifth glance, they weren't there anymore. A few minutes later he heard a small voice directly behind him.

"Roger?" 

"Yeah?"

He spun around to face Alice, with her head still slung slightly low. The room was dark, but he could tell that her eyes were red and puffy.

"May I borrow your sunglasses? Just for a few minutes," she said, pointing to the specs that hung on to his top shirt button.

"S-Sure."

He handed it to her, then she smiled, mouthing "thank you" before she put them on her face and walked away.

His gaze followed her until he spotted Alex sitting on the piano chair onstage. Alice was walking toward the microphone stand near him.

"Good evening, folks," she greeted through the microphone, sounding as if she had the best night ever.

 "Let us just replace Billy for one song, alright?" The audience chuckled. "The song we're going to perform is one written by the great Jason Robert Brown. He was the one who first brought my brother Alex, who's sitting on the piano," she pointed to the said guy. "To this very club."

"Without further ado, this is _Jason's Song_."

Alex began playing the introduction. When Alice began singing, Roger couldn't help but compare her to the version of herself the first time he saw her perform. She looked more relaxed now, no longer sporting a stifling ball gown. Her outfit looked like the usual ones she wore whenever he saw her in a pub. Or any casual night event for the matter.

_“Yeah, you really tried_

_But I was planted_ _all the lies you told me.”_

Her singing was different this time—still controlled, but more laid back as she belted out high notes that he could only do on falsetto.

 _“You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale_ __  
You don't even care  
You focused your frustration on a small detail  
Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail.”

 She looked lost in the music this time—she was angry.

_“If you don't want to see the girl I want to be then why,_

_Then, why should I listen?”_

And she looked hot with his sunglasses on.

Catching himself, he shook the thought off. 

He watched Alex's long fingers danced fast on the piano keys during the bridge. This was also the first time he saw Alex play anything, and he was beginning to see why Freddie thought his own piano skills were lacking.

If the two were this good, how would it have been if all four of them were on the same stage?

Later that night, Alex mingled with the band some more. Alice disappeared but turned up again to return his sunglasses. Her eyes were no longer bloodshot, but she still looked weary. Freddie must have noticed too because he constantly pulled the girl to dance or make remarks that got her to laugh.

Finding himself spending too much time thinking about her, he turned to Deacy who was bobbing his head to the beat.

"I bet you're enjoying this place, huh?"

"You bet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That song was Ariana Grande's "Jason's Song" written by Jason Robert Brown (for real).


	11. Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Susan Xavier-Windsor (played by Adelaide Kane)

April 30, 1976

 _"Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf._ "

The ten children repeated what she sang.

"Good."

She then repeated it in a descending melody and the children sang after her again. This was the drill at the end of every weekday class. And it was already Friday. A normal Friday.

Alice was really enjoying her part-time job. Teaching music was definitely less demanding compared to performing on stage, but it was enough to satisfy her artistic side.

She'd been studying computing for six months now, and it couldn't be more different from studying music. Computing was all logic. As much as she loved it, she still couldn't help but be overwhelmed sometimes. There were days when her brain hurt so much, and her butt ached from sitting all day. She'd been brought up with an intense academic program, but at least she had music at the end of the day. And no matter what problems she faced in life, she always made it slightly better with a song… it seemed cheesy so the only person she’s told about it was Freddie. So, ever since, music has been her emotional crutch—her stress reliever.

“ _One, two, three, four, five, six--,”_

Suddenly, someone knocked on the already open door. All heads turned to its direction, only to see Roger Taylor in dark jeans, a navy blue button up shirt only closed halfway and a gold crescent moon necklace, leaning against the threshold. The older kids gawked at him. And he knew that that’s why he had that smirk on his face.

Suddenly, it wasn’t such a normal Friday anymore.

“I come with a royal warrant from the _queen_ ,” he said coolly, putting his hands in his pockets.

Alice sighed, “Roger.”

That’s right. Freddie had pestered her on and on all week about a party he was going to host that day. She said she had other things to do. The truth was that she didn’t want to go to their crazy parties anymore. She reconsidered every once in a while because it was a celebration for the success of the Night At the Opera Tour and they just recently got home. But the thought about that New York after party still lingered in her brain.

“He would have come here to pick you up himself, but he was too busy,” the drummer continued.

Alice sighed again.

“Are we going to call it an early night again, Miss Alice?” her 6-year old student named Dan asked innocently.

Alice loved her part-time job. And the band members of _Queen_ were going to make her lose it sooner or later.

“Yes,” she said exasperatedly. “Yes, let’s all go home now. Have a happy weekend, everyone!”

And just like that, the children filed out after Roger stepped inside to give way. He greeted back when some of the kids said “good evening, Mr. Roger!” just like they did with Freddie.

Alice gathered her small stack of papers and picked up her big tote bag from the desk on the other side of the room before she approached the drummer.

“Roger, I really can’t go.”

“But why?” he whined, putting his hands on his hips.

“Because,” she said before she started walking past him to the door, “the universe is against it.”

He quickly stood between her and the door to stop her.

“What are you talking about?”

She sighed before she answered him with a matter-of-fact tone, “I don’t have an outfit and make-up with me, my car won’t start this morning so I have to commute, and most importantly, I have to go home _now_ because I need to feed my dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“Yes, I have a dog. Get out of my way.”

“I’ll drive you home,” he offered, shrugging. “And then we’ll go to the party together.”

She was about to protest again so he said, “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

She stared up at him, looking more defeated as his smirk replaced his hopeful expression. She shoved her bag on his chest and pushed him out of the way at the same time.

“You carry that,” she grumbled. “Looks better on you anyway.”

The car ride to her apartment was filled with an easy conversation of how their day went. They were both in good spirits—he took a long nap that day and she felt really proud of her students. It was a short ride since she only lived 10 minutes away from the academy. Before Roger could discreetly ask what was up with her during her stay in their U.S. tour, they had already arrived. Her flat was in a posh neighborhood, Cottesmore Gardens, in the middle of Kensington. Prior to becoming a rockstar with an excessive amount of money, it was a place he could never have afforded.

"It's my uncle's flat," she said like she read his mind. She then instructed him to park behind her nonfunctional green beetle. The old thing looked like the odd one out surrounded by luxury cars parked around.

She invited him inside, saying that it'll take her some time to get ready and he'll probably freeze by the time she got back if she left him outside. As soon as they stepped into the building, he noticed the polished floors and pristine walls lined with the most elegant lamps. He figured it was a place for the wealthy, especially for the people of old money. They climbed a floor up the wide stairs in the middle of the lobby and walked towards the first door to the left. He held the bag open as she fished for the keys.

"You know," he started, a smirk plastered on his face. "This is the first time I'm going inside a girl’s flat for a reason that's not se--,"

"I don’t sleep with guys with ugly eyebrows," she interrupted him drily, not even looking up from the bag.

Roger found it fascinating that his lines never worked with her, and that she bulldozed his attempts with just a single line. In fact, he was fascinated with himself because he found that he was more drawn to her as a friend than someone who he’d like to take to bed and never call forever. She was naturally cute, even hot sometimes, but he thought she should try to enhance her appearance even more. He didn’t mind her raw honesty and frank words hidden in sweet tones. She was one of the people who could do that without unleashing the angry, temperamental monster from within him. Another one of those people is Freddie--sometimes--so that was saying something.

“Excuse me?” He put on a mock hurt expression on his face. He couldn’t help but touch his eyebrows.

She shot him an amused look before she inserted the key and pushed the door open. He stepped inside after her.

It was one giant flat. Just like the lobby and the hallway, it had a high ceiling, polished floors, and elegant walls. It also encapsulated expensive furniture and a Victorian vibe. Something about it felt cold.

“Wow,” he said as he looked at the small crystal chandelier hanging above the coffee table in the living room. “This looks like an old woman’s house.”

“It’s my uncle’s,” she repeated.

Roger froze when he heard rumbling on the corner of the room to his right. He turned his head towards it, and then suddenly it ran up to him and barked.

His breath caught up in his throat as Alice crouched down and got ahold of the small black and brown dachshund dog just in front of him.

“Tobi!”

He wasn’t particularly a dog lover. But he liked dogs more than cats, to Freddie’s dismay. His parents let Clare, his little sister; keep a golden retriever before so he knew that Tobi was probably going to keep barking at him as a defense mechanism. Still, he stepped away and held his hand up front.

“Easy, boy,” he said gently as if it was going to placate the angry animal. Alice lifted it up and made it face Roger.

“Tobi, this is Roger. He’s a friend, be nice.”

He gingerly patted the dog’s head. Almost instantly, the dog seemed to warm up to him, and it tried to lick his hand.

“Good boy,” Alice praised before she placed a noisy kiss on its head. She placed it down on the ground and walked inside the kitchen with Tobi following earnestly behind her. She called out before disappearing, “Make yourself feel at home, Rog. I’ll hurry up.”

He didn’t respond. His eye caught on the picture frames on the side table. There was one picture for each of Alice’s siblings, one of herself, and another of them all in one frame. The individual pictures looked like they were taken recently. His eyes focused on Susan. Unlike her pictures on the front page of every newspaper and the television reports where she was dolled up to the formal look limits; she looked relaxed and natural in the frames.

Susan was everything he expected the lost Xavier sister to look like when he met Frederick and Alex on 1972. She was tall, lithe and utterly beautiful. Her black hair was shiny and her skin was like porcelain. He knew that if he had met her before she got married, he would probably have hit on her. At the back of his head, he understood why Alice said that she felt like she was always in her sister’s shadow.

The picture of them together looked old. They all looked like teenagers in it, and they were situated around a grand piano. They were all good looking, and their immense talents only added to their appeal.

Having had enough of their pictures, he moved to sit on the couch. He noticed the papers stacked on the coffee table with Alice’s name on it and a big red mark on the other side of the front page. Deciding that it was okay to be nosy, he leaned closer to the stack and flipped the page. It was a logic course exam result that had a perfect score. Then he flipped another one: _99_ %. And a third one: _100%._

Holy shit, were they all this perfect? They had the looks, talents, wealth, and the brains. What did they not have?

Roger suddenly felt that the world was an unfair place.

Then his eyes caught the picture hanging on the wall opposite him. Their dead parents.

The woman looked like Alice but had sharper features. The man looked exactly like Frederick.

“I’m sorry. I should have offered you tea,” Alice said behind him as she slipped on another shoe. “But I suck at making tea so you’ve got to live with it.”

He stood up and stretched a little before he turned to her.

“Would it kill you to wear a skirt for once?”

She stuck her tongue out at him for a moment before she retorted, “Not until you do it first.”

They drove to Freddie’s party with their usual comfortable, playful conversation. The traffic was particularly bad even as late as 9 o’clock in the evening. But she seemed so cheerful—laughing at his jokes and seeing the humor in random parts of a story. He almost forgot that he was still concerned about her being upset months ago.

“Hey, I have other talents, too,” he shared during a full-stop clog of cars on the road. “Like academic writing.”

“I’ve never even seen you write anything other than a scribbly note on a fan’s paper before.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, I had a first-class honours grade in an anatomy class in uni.”

“Anatomy? What was your degree anyway?”

“Dentistry,” he mumbled.

She barked out a laugh, which made Roger laugh, too.

“Laugh all you want. Just thank the heavens I dropped out,” he said, chuckling as he shifted to first gear and accelerated again.

“I can’t imagine seeing you in a lab coat and a face mask while peering into people’s mouths,” she said in between laughs.

“Oh, you’d rather see my mouth on yo—another mo--,” he stuttered, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically pressured when her laughter didn’t subside. “Goddammit!”

“Shame on you, Roger Taylor,” she teased. “How are you supposed to take a girl home tonight with that kind of delivery?”

“My skills shine on site. You’ll see.”

Shortly after, they finally got to the venue. They parted ways as soon as they found Freddie. Alice stayed to meet some of Freddie’s friends while Roger sauntered off to get drinks and maybe find someone to flirt with. He entertained anyone who wanted to talk to him—he was there to celebrate the band’s success after all. Eventually, he did find a redheaded girl wearing the shortest dress he had ever seen that night, and he half-heartedly started a conversation with her. Nothing substantial, of course. He could barely remember her name. She had asked him to go with her to her place, but he decided that it was too early to go home with anyone. He needed to get drunker. So, he detached himself from her and went to the loo to empty his bladder first.

Upon walking out of the loo, he was met with the sight of Alice walking towards him. He flashed her a smirk, about to ask her if she’d already missed him. But when she was already close enough, he noticed that she looked a little… nervous?

“Rog?” she asked, her voice small as she stopped a little past behind him to make him face the other way around.

“What is it, love?”

“Remember two years ago you said that you owed us a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I really kind of need one right now.”

“Sure, what is it?” he asked, feeling more concerned.

“I need you to kiss me.”


	12. Anxious

Roger’s lips turned into a smirk. “I love a bird who knows what she wants.”

“Roger!” she was whisper yelling now. “There’s this guy at 5’clock who’s been trying to ask me out for the past hour and he’s still following me. I told him I had a boyfriend but he wouldn’t let up.”

Roger took a subtle glance at the direction she said. He confirmed it as he caught a tall, buff, dark-haired man stealing glances at their direction a few feet away. He looked like the type of asshole who didn’t know what the word ‘no’ meant. His brow furrowed for a moment in anger, but he shook his head and his face broke into that annoying smirk again.

“So, I’m this boyfriend?” he teased. “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it, love?”

“Oh, please. I’m an actress. It’s hardly an issue.”

Seeing that the man was already rapidly walking towards them, Roger licked his lips and leaned closer to her and asked, “Ready, Ali?”

When she nodded, he crashed his lips on hers. Feeling her ease up from the initial shock and tension, he wrapped his arms around her and almost smirked when he felt her wrap her arms around his neck. He noticed that she was a very good kisser, probably from the years of practice of doing it on stage.

Alice noticed Roger open his eyes momentarily and look somewhere else like he was looking out behind her. He was kissing her so hard that she thought her lips might get bruised. She figured that the man might still be around since Roger upped his game and slipped his hand under her shirt just enough to be noticeable. She involuntarily shivered under his touch at the small of her back, but she felt relaxed—she trusted Roger.

When Roger saw that the man had already given up and fled, he pulled away and whispered lowly right below her earlobe, “Coast is clear.”

She let her head fall on his shoulder in relief. “Thanks, Rog.”

He pecked the bare area between her neck and shoulder, “Anytime, love.”

He pulled away before he laced his fingers with hers saying, “Let’s get out of here, _babe_.”

It amused her how natural they were at this act.

* * *

“So, let me get this straight.”

They were standing at the edge of the balcony area now, Roger lighting up a cigarette as he continued to question her. He led her there, trying to analyze what just happened. Then he realized that in the two years that he’d hung out with her, he’d never _ever_ seen her with a guy before. She always stuck to Freddie’s or the band’s beaus during a party. And she’d never mentioned a boyfriend.

“You don’t… date?”

“It makes me anxious, okay? I tried it once. It didn’t end up well. The second time, I just… panicked. So, I never tried it again.”

He looked at her as if she grew another head.

“So, how do you, you know, get _laid_?”

She looked defeated. “I… don’t.”

“Wait a minute. Are you a virg--,”

She looked down and mumbled, “Yes.”

His jaw dropped. “What exactly happened on your first date?”

When she turned silent, he softened his gaze and tone, “You don’t have to answer it if you’re not comfortable, love.”

She shook her head and smiled at him—almost sadly, “I was 18. He was my colleague at the acting program. I’ve been fancying him since the very beginning of the program so when he asked me on a date, of course, I said yes. But then he took me to a small pub in Brooklyn. It was a tad bit too noisy, but I didn’t mind because I was, you know, too blinded. I had a good time but then I realized that he was slipping roofies in my drinks…”

Roger looked at her with a mixture of horror and anger, so she immediately added, “Well, he wasn’t able to touch me or anything. The security personnel was quick to act on their feet, fortunately. Alex almost injured his hand punching the guy.”

Roger was almost flattered at how she seemed to trust him enough to tell him things in her life that she normally didn’t talk about in their group. He was sure Freddie knew about these things because he seemed to be her best friend. It was nice how she seemed to be inching him towards that title as well.

“And the next date, well, I messed up! I thought the date went well, but I don’t know, the guy didn’t call me again. When I moved to London, my colleagues tried to set me up on blind dates but I always bailed.”

Seeing her out of her usual calmness amused him this time.

“I’m sorry, Rog. I must be boring you right now,” she said, looking at him apologetically. Roger found himself wanting to know about her, more than he already did. He could see why Freddie was so drawn to her. Besides the fact that she was frank, she was interesting; different from the other girls he met for the past few years who only wanted to get the _Roger Taylor experience_ or get 15 minutes of fame by being with him. This one was being real to him.

“No, go on,” he said. “This is actually fascinating. So, why did you always bail? And I think you still do since I heard Freddie trying to point someone to you earlier tonight?”

She paused, her face showing her distraught, as she seemed to find the right words to explain it.

“Please don’t laugh.”

“What makes you think I’ll laugh? See, I’m serious.”

“Because I told Alex about it and then he wrote a bloody song out of it.”

“I won’t laugh, love. I promise.”

She looked at him as if she was making sure he meant what he said before she took a deep breath and said, “I always bail because… what if the guy doesn’t like me after the date? What if he does but he turns out to be a weirdo or we won’t agree on a single thing after all? Or what if I do go home with a guy after drinking and then he’s a psychopath who’ll kill me in my sleep?”

How can someone seemingly so perfect on the surface be so anxious about something that all normal people go through? How can someone so confident on stage be so unsure of herself when it comes to meeting for intimate stuff?

“Ha!”

She shot him a confused look, “What?”

“This is your flaw!”

This was her turn to scoff, “Excuse me?”

“You’re such a perfectionist,” he said, the look of realization on his face, “to the point that you panic whenever something happens that’s not anticipated.”

She opened her mouth to speak but he continued, “Like a missed note during a song, or low grades!”

“How did you know--,”

“I saw your papers in the living room.”

“You looked at those?”

“Ali, it’s hardly something to be ashamed of.”

She sighed and turned to the view beyond the rail, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

He wanted to laugh and joke about it, but the distraught look on her face made it clear that she was dead serious about the matter. So, he kept the silence between them for a few moments, listening to the sound of wild partying inside the pub. The sound of Freddie shouting and laughing could vaguely be heard.

“How do you suppose you’re going to find a boyfriend with that?” he asked gently. “Or girlfriend. I don’t judge.”

“I don’t know,” she said, then after a beat of silence, she continued, “I’m sort of trying to avoid it right now.”

“Why?”

“I just want to focus on creating a path for myself first, you know? I don’t mean to sound extremely feminist, but I want to succeed in my own career, without the possibility of hindrance from a man who’ll probably tell me to stand down and be a doting wife to him instead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not all men are like that.”

She turned her head to look at him, “How would you know? I’ve never seen a girl last longer than a few weeks with you.”

“On the contrary,” he defended, “I have had a serious relationship before.”

“Oh?”

He didn’t look sad or angry about it. He answered her in a matter-of-fact tone, “Yes. Her name was Charlotte. We started dating a year before I moved out of Truro for uni.”

With that, she started to get really curious. Roger Taylor talking about a girlfriend was absurd. “What happened?”

“I broke up with her. She couldn’t accept the fact that I had to leave Truro.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling bad for judging Roger so quickly. “That’s too bad.”

Roger went silent as he reran his past relationship in his head. He barely thought about it anymore. He just thought it was the sign that made him think of himself as unready for relationships.

“So,” he spoke again, determined to divert the attention to her again. “How do you suppose you’d get laid then? I can’t imagine not having--,”

“But I will! Just,” she looked down at her hands, her voice turning down in embarrassment, “when I meet the right person… at the right place and time, I guess.”

Roger couldn’t help but let out a howl of laughter. He couldn’t understand what was more dominating, her anxiousness or her naivety—and she seemed to think that, too, judging from the blush on her face and the fact that she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Oh, my god. You really are a Disney Princess, aren’t you?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved his side, “Ugh. I shouldn’t have told you.”

When she started to turn to walk away, he grabbed her arm to make her face him again. Turning serious, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

After a beat of just staring at each other, she started to chuckle at herself. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

He chuckled with her, saying “A little. But the world could really use some ridiculous things right now.”

Another beat of silence before he asked, “What did Freddie say about this?”

“Oh, uh. He doesn’t know.”

Roger blinked at her slowly. He was the only one besides her brother who knew about her little love life—or lack of it. He felt his heart swell a bit. He felt special. It was nice.

“It’s just,” she started again as she turned her body to rest her elbows on the rail. “I’m already contented with the way things are turning out right now, you know? I’m in uni, I’m teaching little kids how to sing. I love kids. And I’ve got friends now—Freddie, Brian, Deacy, Mary and the other wives, y _ou._ It’s enough.”

She looked so serene looking at the city lights below them. Roger copied her and rested his elbows down on the rail as well. For the first time in a long time, he felt contented as well.


	13. The Act

It was the start of a very unconventional act.

Later that night, Alice apologized for keeping Roger away from the party. He waved her off, saying that he didn’t mind, and continued to stay by her side. After the conversation, Alice seemed to get back to her normal, sociable self, talking to anyone who didn’t seem to try and hit on her. It kept him away from any action from the fairer sex that night, but he found that it was fine because he got to see another side of the enigmatic Alice Xavier.

At one point, he hypothesized that maybe it was her witty act to get him to kiss her. And get him to go home with her. If he was being honest, he didn’t know what his answer would be if she asked him to sleep with her. But as the night went on and they have had one drink after another until they had already felt light-headed, she had yet to lay a single non-platonic touch on his body. And she said she needed to go home.

He offered to drive her home again, partly to recheck the results of his little hypothesis, but she firmly shook her head no. He wasn’t legless yet, but she said she’d already taken too much of his time, and that he should enjoy the party more. After a bit more protest from him, she finally managed to say goodbye to Freddie and the others, and he waited with her outside for the cab. Before she left, she thanked Roger with nothing but a kiss on the cheek.

So, it became a regular thing for them during parties or pub-crawls. She only came to parties in London like an after party of a local gig or a get-together pub night for the band members and production teams. Of course, it didn’t stop him from sleeping around with other girls but whenever Alice decided to come, he made it a point to keep an eye on her every once in a while. She was an attractive bird after all. Whenever a bloke tried to get a little bit too close for Alice, Roger immediately approached—even if it was easy for her to just say no. The intensity of the act depended on how aggressive the bloke was trying to flirt with her.

There was one time that an unaggressive beanpole tried to flirt with her. Just before the guy was able to ask for her number, Roger swooped in and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“There you are,” he said before he kissed the side of her head. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Alice looked at him momentarily shocked before it turned into relief. She leaned closer to him, placing a hand on his barely covered chest. “Oh, right. Roger, this is Justin. We just met. Justin, this is Roger, he’s--,”

“Her boyfriend,” Roger said smoothly, flashing the guy a smile as he extended his free hand for the poor bloke to shake.

“Hi,” he said, obviously uncomfortable about the situation and that he just had to flirt with _the_ Roger Taylor’s girl. After the pleasantries and a few moments of awkward silence, the guy said, “I better get going now. It was nice meeting you, Alice. Roger.”

The two waved at him goodbye before they turned the other way and laughed it out.

There were other times when someone becomes too touchy with her, and she knows that Roger was being cozy with a groupie, but still, he left the groupie just to go pluck her out of her situation. There were also other times when Roger was in a bad mood, so he just went right up and yelled at the poor guy like an angry Chihuahua. When she confronted him about it, he just shrugged and said, “I just don’t like it when you feel uncomfortable, that’s all.”

They’ve been doing it for months, and it wasn’t long before a friend found out.

It was on the second time they did it when Deacy noticed it. He was bopping to a disco song on the dance floor, already tipsy, when he thought he saw Roger and Alice walk by the bar hand-in-hand. He thought nothing of it at first because Alice had gotten so close to the band lately and Roger was known to be a touchy person. But when he saw the blonde kiss the girl and give her his trademark playboy smile, the bassist started to get suspicious. So, later that night when he finally caught Roger alone sitting on a bar stool, he straightforwardly asked the drummer what the latter was up to with their younger female friend.

“Nothing,” the drummer said almost nonchalantly as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a sip.

“What do you mean nothing? I saw you two.”

“Saw us doing what?”

“Kissing?”

Roger snorted, “Deacy, come on. I’ve kissed Brian, Freddie, even _you_. We’re grown adults here.”

Deacy rolled his eyes at the memory. It was true. At one point, they have kissed one another either by Freddie’s stupid dares or by accident. He remembered the time Roger smooched him drunkenly in the studio once because Freddie teased the drummer that he had sexual tension with the bassist. Deacy felt compelled to wash his mouth and lips with mouthwash after. He shuddered at the memory.

“That’s not the point, Roger. Are you dating her? Or having a friends-with-benefits thing? Seriously, she isn’t someone you should easily--,”

Roger finally sighed, conceding. “We’re not dating. Nor are we sleeping together. It’s just a thing we do to fend the _suitors_ away, that’s all.”

The blonde then proceeded to explain Alice’s dilemma to the younger musician. Alice never told him to keep it a secret, so he felt that it was okay to share it with their other friends to keep them posted.

Little did Roger know, Deacy was still a little suspicious. A few parties later that month, the bassist was only able to confirm the drummer’s testimony when after a visible make-out session, Alice and Roger turned a corner, return to a respectable distance and high-five.

Brian was standing beside him when he was able to confirm it. But unlike him, the guitarist was not provided the context, and his first instinct was to report what he just saw to Freddie.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Deacy calmly advised the taller man.

The look of horror was still fresh on Brian’s face when he said, “Not wise? Roger is playing with _Alice_ of all people. God knows how Roger is with women and commitment.”

“I know,” the bassist replied as a matter-of-factly. “But look.”

He then pointed at Roger on the other side of the room, walking towards the backdoor with a blonde girl attached to his side. He then pointed at Alice, who was now sitting near them, happily chattering about with Chrissie and Mary.

Brian looked more confused.

Deacy sighed, “Fine. I better explain this to you and Freddie both.”

The singer found their little act surprisingly funny from Deacy’s storytelling. He confronted Alice about it later, and the girl was flustered at first, but eventually spilled everything to him.

“Why Roger?”

“Well,” she counted her points with her fingers. “First, he’s the only one single among my friends in here.”

“Point taken.”

“And second, well, he was the first one I found when I panicked.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Freddie nodded. “Why didn’t you just tell me this before, dear? I’ve been trying to introduce a lot of blokes to you all this time.”

“Sorry, Fred,” she said a little timidly. “I just didn’t want you to try and you know, _break me out of my shell_. I’m currently fine in my shell. I can assure you, Roger is only helping me be comfortable _inside_ that shell.”

“Darling,” Freddie started, his gaze gentle and understanding. “I don’t ever want to make you do something you don’t want to do. You’re fun as you are. If that’s what you want then that’s what you get. Nothing less.”

She swore Freddie was too kind to her sometimes.

“Aww,” she said, slightly tearing up. “You’re the best, Freddie.”

“I know, darling,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “However.” She looked up at him.

“Do be careful with Roger, dear. Don’t get me wrong. He is the fiercest loyal friend you could ever find.”

“But?”

“But he doesn’t have the best track record for keeping women’s hearts intact after a romantic rendezvous. He seems to bulldoze the feelings of anyone who has boobs. And vaginas.”

She snorted, “This really is just acting, Freddie. And don’t worry. My boobs aren’t exactly exceptional.” She pointed her below-average, size 32B breasts to the singer. She felt like there was nothing to be ashamed of in front of him now.

“I know. But they’re still boobs,” he shrugged. “You’re a big girl now. You know what you’re doing. Just be careful.”

“I will. I promise.”


	14. Roger's Tantrum

July 1976

The recording for their upcoming fifth studio album had just begun. It was difficult to top their previous album, _A Night at the Opera_ , but Freddie had composed another harmony-heavy, Aretha Franklin-inspired song called ‘ _Somebody to Love’_. Another masterpiece—everyone gave their thumbs up on it.  The band seemed to agree more than disagree for this album production compared to their previous one. Unfortunately for Roger, his three bandmates also agreed to continue mocking him over his song ‘ _I’m In Love With My Car’_ even when he was seriously trying to suggest his newly composed songs.

“Why don’t you just shut up for a moment and maybe just _bloody_ listen to it first?!”

“Yeah, or else he’ll lock himself up in that cupboard again,” Roger heard one of his bandmates mutter.

The drummer walked out of the room, yelling profanities everywhere.

“Wankers,” he muttered under his breath as he stomped out of the backdoor of the studio, slamming the heavy metal door behind him. The alley he was in was dim, the faint light coming from the lampposts creating a reddish tint on the grey-brown bricks. There was a dumpster nearby surrounded by both metal and non-metal junk probably coming from the studio. But he didn’t care. He just needed to get out of there. Have a smoke or two. Better than storming out all the way home, right?

The dark alley was definitely better than right in front of the studio, where people would be able to see him fuming his brains out. He wasn’t afraid of the tabloid rumors about him but no matter how angry he got, he still thought it best to keep the band’s image of unity intact. 

Why couldn’t they get past the cupboard incident?

Sure, it wasn’t his best moment in the band, but it definitely wasn’t the most preposterous thing that any of them ever did. Why didn’t they target Freddie for his stupid antics? 

And speaking of songs, why didn’t they ever call Brian out for his widely sexist songs that openly objectified women? Or Deacy for his mushy, soft songs that threatened their rock image?

Roger seriously did think highly of his song for  _A Night at the Opera._

But the jokes were only the trigger of his anger. 

They’ve started rehearsing for ‘ _Tie Your Mother Down’_ and they played their respective instruments so _bloody_ slowly that Roger wanted to rip his hair out of his scalp.

He’s had enough of them.

So, he stood in the middle of the alley and opened his new box of Marlboro’s and went through them one by one to help ease his mood. Alas, he’s burnt out the last one and he’s _still_ angry.

Damn his stupid bandmates who couldn’t understand a fucking metaphor!

So, he peered inside his empty box of cigarettes before he used all of his strength to throw it at the brick wall in front of him just as he heard the metal door creak open and click close softly. Must be Brian. The guitarist was always the one who came out to try and coax the drummer to come back inside and work if they felt like it. But he didn’t want to talk to Brian. So, he refused to turn around; taking deep breaths, balling his fists, still absolutely seething with fury.

When he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, he instantly whipped around to forcefully slap the intruding hand away from contacting his body.

“I said piss the hell off, you motherfucker!”

Before his eyes could focus on the person, he heard a high-pitched yelp instead of a gentle grunt of pain.

It wasn’t Brian.

There in front of him was Alice, looking pretty shocked, holding her offended wrist in her other hand instinctively. Roger took a moment to get past his initial surprise.

“Al?” he managed to say, his anger still eclipsing the surprise and guilt he felt when he realized what he’d just done. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh,” she stuttered, regaining her composure as she took one step back away from the drummer. “I was in the area. I just swung by to bring some pumpkin pie ‘cause Freddie said you were working late here tonight.”

He nodded, not meeting her in the eye, trying to hasten calming himself down.

“I parked near this alley.”

“How come I didn’t see you go inside?” he asked, feeling more confident to speak now.

“I went inside through the main entrance,” she hesitated but she continued, “The press was following. So, the studio security told me to use this route out.”

His brow furrowed. Was the press suddenly following her because the nosy bitches spotted them in their act during parties and suddenly concluded that they were—?

“My sister just publicly announced that she’s pregnant, you see,” she quickly clarified like she read his mind. 

He nodded, calming down from his emerging anger over a different matter. When she released her wrist from her other hand’s grasp and let her arms fall to her sides, his guilt finally surfaced over his anger.

“The boys told me they ticked you off.”

“Bunch of dickheads they are,” he muttered under his breath again as he looked down at his feet and kicked a stone situated near his foot sideward.

He expected her to mock him, or chuckle at least. But thankfully, she didn’t. She just nodded and her gaze followed the path of the stone as if she was just waiting for him to speak up again.

“I-I’m sorry about your hand. I just thought you were Brian,” he said, hesitating if he should step forward and check her hand for any injuries. Before he could decide, she already shook her head and waved her hand to show him it was fine.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. Her voice suddenly turned gentle when she offered, “Is there any way I can help? Or do you need… space? ‘Cause I can totally go—,”

His lips turned upward slightly, suddenly playful. “If you have some cigs to offer, that would be nice.”

“Ah,” she said, returning the small smile, slightly relieved because of his lightened up mood. “That I don’t have, my friend.”

He sighed dramatically and tutted disappointedly at the girl. She rolled her eyes and started to step away towards the end of the alleyway where she said she parked.

“Well, if I couldn’t be of any assistance, Mr. Taylor. I better leave you alone now.”

“Wait.”

She stopped in her tracks and faced him. He stepped forward towards her and pointed at the faint circular yellowish light just above the top of their adjacent building.

“Stay,” he said, sounding artificially romantic. “Watch the moon with me.”

Instead of retorting something about being past flirting, she raised her right eyebrow in disapproval.

“Roger,” she said, deadpan. “You do know that that’s a building lamp, right?”

He looked at the light again and squinted to get a better focus.

Oh, right.

She laughed for the first time that night, “You seriously need to wear glasses.”

“And look all dorky like you? No way.”

“Suit yourself, blind-ey.”

And then they laughed. Their conversations always seemed to end with him more relaxed and calm—no mentions of sex, no flirting or innuendos, nothing. Just pure conversation. This situation just showed that she had that effect on him even at the tensest moments—even if he physically hurt her. Even if she didn’t need to say much. So, he admittedly wanted her to stay. He motioned her to lean next to him on the brick wall under the faint light that his _fake moon_ emitted.

So, he asked her questions she generously answered anyway. He found out that she only meant to buy the pie, which was available just a few blocks from the studio they were currently in and then drive it off to Clarence House as a congratulatory gift for her pregnancy. She smiled sadly when she told him that she rang the said house only to find out that her sister, together with the prince, had traveled all the way to Sandringham earlier that day. So, she gave the pie to the boys instead. And in a way, he felt sorry for her. For someone who grew up without her parents, she obviously was very close to her siblings. Then suddenly, she’s alone, craving for that same closeness again.

She could have looked for friends at uni or work. But she was already tied to importance now, so she needed to keep her distance from people who would probably tattle to the media. No wonder she clung to Freddie. Freddie was a big ball of affection, and he never skimped on showing his love for the people who he thought deserved it. And Freddie despised the media’s nosiness. Roger’s mindset about his flamboyant bandmate softened suddenly, now leaning towards the singer’s good aspects instead of the quarrel they had earlier that night.

But she never liked being the center of attention in a conversation for long. As he expected, she diverted the topic back to him again.

“So, tell me, Rog,” there was something in the way that the nickname she gave him rolled in her tongue. He liked it.

“Why write about a… car?” she asked, not intended to be a mockery. Just genuine curiosity. “Why not—I don’t know—your first love, family, or first house, perhaps? Was your car really your heart’s priority at the time?”

He paused for a few moments as he tried to organize his thoughts.

“Well,” he started slowly, “As I said, it was about a tech personnel’s love for cars--,”

“I’ve heard that before,” she cut him off, “So, you’d rather sing about _another_ person’s passion for something other than… your own? To the point that you fought for it so hard that you locked yourself up? In a cupboard no less?”

Roger paused again. He wasn’t offended about the mention of the cupboard incident this time. She had a point. He stayed silent for long as he rethought all his reasons.

“Maybe there just wasn’t much in my life worth singing about besides… becoming famous, I guess. And it's not like I have a girlfriend or someone special. In fact, I'm the only one in the band who _doesn't_ have one." He didn't mean to utter the last part so bitterly. It was true, though. John had Veronica, Brian had Chrissie (although they obviously weren't the happiest couple ever), and even Freddie had Mary (as complicated their relationship could be).

"But I'm not exactly looking for one either," he said as a matter-of-factly.

She probably noticed that he was distraught with his own answers, so she decided to stop and just nod as he continued to dwell in his thoughts.

“But there still is now, right?”

“What is?”

“Something worth writing about?”

He slowly nodded, remembering his newly composed song ‘ _Drowse’_. It definitely had a deeper meaning than his previous song. It was about growing up. His own teenage experience.

“Yeah.”

She smiled up at him encouragingly, “Then why don’t you go back inside and work on it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, finding the will to face his bandmates again. “They didn’t send you out here to convince me to go back in, did they?”  
  
She chuckled, “They don’t know you’re still here. They thought you went to a nearby pub or something.”

He chuckled back and shook his head. “Fuckers. I’m not unprofessional.”

She pushed herself off the wall and he followed, shooting her a smile, expression completely opposite of how she found him that night.

They parted ways, both feeling lighter.

Roger concluded that Alice might be good for his mental health, and he made a mental note to check up on her outside partying and concerts every once in a while.


	15. Sundays

_July 1976_

The Sunday morning seemed to go by so slowly. The sun shone brighter in the hazy London skies as the days went deeper into the August summer climate. It was warmer than usual, but Alice chose to stay buried in her lavish duvet. It's perfectly all right, she decided. Sundays were strictly free days for her. Even Freddie respected that. She was a very busy person, with work and uni taking up most of her week and Freddie's parties on Fridays or Saturdays. And she also worked on Saturday afternoons. Sunday was her day to sleep in and relax.

But she didn't feel rested that Sunday morning. She'd been awake for hours now, but her body was as heavy as lead as her brain decided to overthink everything in her life the moment she woke up.

Just two days ago at work, she received an invitation from one of her mother’s successful students, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and his co-producer Tim Rice to sing the lead for a concept album for a new musical called _Evita_. He visited his alma mater, the academy where she worked and heard her sing. He also remembered her from _Les Miserables_. She felt giddy when they talked. She was naturally flattered that he called her singing versatile, firm and clear, which was exact sound that they needed. Most singers would jump at the chance, and she felt very fortunate. The character was about the controversial first lady of Argentina, you see. The story was heavily political. She’d read about the woman back in homeschool days, and she hated the late first lady’s guts. She was manipulative and far too ambitious. But she wanted to portray her. She missed the feeling of leaving reality to _be_ someone else. She missed performing. She told them she’d think about it.

When she got home, she wanted to ask her friends what she should do about it—Freddie was the best choice. But then she knew that if she did, she would have to tell him what was holding her back. Her sister would never approve of it, you see. The real reason why the two of them quit _Les Miserables_ was that its plot was about a revolution _against_ the monarchs of France. How can the future princess at the time and her sister be a part of a production that romanticizes something that could potentially damage the image of the very institution they were entering? Alice loved and believed in _Les Miserables_. She never wanted to leave it. She was willing to wait another term to start uni just so that she could continue to be Eponine. But the queen was livid and wanted her to follow her sister’s footsteps and step down from it as well. So, she did. Alice was slightly ashamed to tell Freddie that her sister had her hands loosely tied regarding her own life decisions.

Whenever she tried to decide, she saw her sister’s picture in her living room _staring_ at her. Whenever she was outside, she’d see the queen’s picture, which was more intimidating. So, she kept quiet about it, trying to decide about it on her own. God knew she wanted to take on the role. It was just a recording after all. And for the first time, she was wanted for herself, not an accompaniment for her sister. Andrew and Tim gave her a full month to think about it since they were still on the process of completing the musical score.

Looking at the bright side, she had a lot to be thankful for like Queen—the band—because they became her support group. They didn't know every piece of her life. They didn't have to. She was perfectly happy mostly just listening and hanging out with them. God knows that she needed to be surrounded by real friends. She couldn't trust anyone new ever since her sister became part of the royal family, and her family was increasingly becoming a pain in the ass.

Over the years, inevitably, the band got to know more about her, too. Fortunately for her, they all seemed to accept her for who she was despite her weird fears and naivety. Not too long ago, she was starting to put a little more distance from them, but they sucked her right back into their little circle. Honestly, it made her even more comfortable with them, knowing that she was _wanted._

She'd become so comfortable that she was able to open up to Roger, of all people, that she was prone to bad dates and that she was a virgin. She wanted to bury her head in the ground like an ostrich when he laughed, but when he took the initiative to help instead of making fun of her about it, she'd never been more relieved. Roger was more than the womanizing, mischievous and hotheaded friend after all. He was the most loyal friend like Freddie said he was. And she was definitely happy with herself when she was able to calm him down from a tantrum about a week ago at the studio. Nevermind her bruised hand.

Suddenly, her doorbell rang. The idea of ignoring it was tempting, and she stayed lying down until it rang again.

She stood up slowly with a groan, feeling her joints crack after so many hours of staying still. She walked over to the door, not even bothering to check her appearance first. Her matching pajamas with the unicorn patterns were decent, she decided, and her hair was sticking up in all directions but who cares? Who dared to disturb her on a Sunday?

She stood on her tippy toes and looked through the peephole.

Think of the devil and he appears. She opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

Roger beamed at her, his newly bleached blonde hair glowing when the sunlight from the hallway windows shone on him.

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine!" He greeted, holding up a bag of food in one hand and a thermos in the other. "The unicorns look more awake than you."

She huffed, "And what are you doing up so early?"

"Early? It's 11 o'clock. I brought brunch. Aren't you even going to let me in?"

About half an hour later, she found herself eating pancakes with the energetic drummer. He was babbling on and on about the recent happenings for the band after their meeting at the back of the studio. They were working day and night to make the album as good—if not better—than _A Night At The Opera_. Today was a rest day for the band. Why Roger chose to spend it with her was beyond her. He never answered her seriously about that.

"I swear that was the first time Freddie and Brian shut up during an argument because of Deacy," he narrated cheerfully, cutting his pancakes before shoving the slice in his mouth.

She chuckled as she continued to chew her food, slowly but surely becoming more awake because of the drummer's radiating energy.

"Fancy a cuppa? I think you really need one," he prompted, starting to reach for the thermos.

"Is it coffee?"

He chuckled, "A 'cuppa' is usually meant for tea."

"Ugh," she grimaced. "You Brits and your tea."

He laughed as he put the thermos back down, "Like you're not?"

She found the energy to laugh with him now. She almost felt sorry for him the whole time he was there because she knew that she was being so damn irritable. She even threw a pillow at him when he made a green joke before they ate.

"Seriously, Rog," she started when the laughter died down, "not that I'm ungrateful for the food and all. But why are you here?"

"Just wanted to visit my favorite girl, that's all," he shrugged, his words muffled with his mouth still full of food.

She swore that her eyes rolled as an automatic response to his flirtatious remarks that he probably just said to annoy her.

He almost choked when she punched his arm. "I'm serious!"

He swallowed and rubbed his arm, "I am, too! Jesus, woman, I've never seen you this cranky before. You're bleeding, aren't you?"

"No," She chuckled, "but you disrupted the peace and serenity of my Sunday."

"Why, what's with Sunday?"

"It's my 'me' day."

"Like... a routine?"

"Yes."

He snorted, "Old woman."

She huffed, "Excuse you. The routine is... nice. Keeps me alert and on schedule for the rest of the week."

He looked at her for a few moments with an unreadable expression before he returned to buttering his pancakes. "But it's boring. Come on, after we finish up, let's watch something. Have you got a video player?"

"And what if I don't want to?"

He gave her the puppy dog eyes that Freddie had told her about. It rivaled her dog's persuasiveness. "Oh, come on, Al. Indulge me a little. After all the good snogging I gave you?"

She slapped his arm again. "Ow! You have a thing for spanking, huh?" She sighed before she relented.

"Fine."

So, she spent the whole afternoon curled up beside the drummer on the couch watching recorded episodes of _Mont Python’s Flying Circus_. She actually had a pleasant time with him. They either stayed silent and glued their eyes on the telly or lightly argued about the plot. Although there were times when they brushed the other's skin as they shifted in their seats, they maintained a respectable distance between them. Sometimes she attempted to sniff herself because maybe she smelled bad that's why he chose to sit a few inches away from her. Deacy said that Roger was particularly a touchy person and she'd gotten used to it by now because of all the times that they pretended to be together in parties and pub-crawls.

So, she excused herself to take a shower and change for a few minutes. When she returned, it was the same. It made her smile thinking that maybe Roger was making a conscious effort to make her feel that he wasn't attempting to seduce her or something. He did appear so suddenly without a clear reason after all. Maybe he really did just want her company.

Roger decided to go home that afternoon after noticing that she was already nodding off because of sleepiness.

"Hey, thanks for today, Rog," she said as they walked towards the front door. "Wasn't half as bad as I thought. The food certainly helped."

The drummer smirked, "Expect me again next week then. The offer still stands. I’ll _nap_ with you today if you ask nicely."

She deadpanned, "I'm not opening the door on Sundays. Ever."

He turned to face her when he reached the hallway and held up his arms.

"Not even a goodbye kiss?"

She closed the door.

And he really didn’t come over again next Sunday. If she was being honest, there was a part of her that was a little disappointed. As she worked on her English essay alone, she couldn't help but wish that she hadn't said the last thing she said to him last Sunday. What if he got offended? She hadn't gone to see the band the whole week and she was starting to miss them. Again, overthink was what she did.

But she needn't worry further. That following Wednesday, Roger showed up at the academy right after her class—thankfully not disturbing it again. He let himself in the classroom right after the last pupil flew out of the classroom.

"Eat dinner with me, please."

Alice almost laughed at the shameless show of one of his traits—neediness. When Roger wanted something, he did everything to get it. If not, he wouldn't have locked himself in a cupboard just to get his song on the B-side of Bohemian Rhapsody.

And that was the start of how Roger Taylor became another constant in her life. He may have had an impulsive schedule, and he appeared at random nights and days in the week. Sometimes he came by after her vocal classes on weeknights, demanding that she join him for dinner. Or he showed up on another Sunday just like he did the first time. She didn’t feel lonely before it started since she had a lot of things to do anyway. And she met up with Freddie, Roger, and the others every once in a while. But it was a nice change in her life—suddenly, she had someone to talk to at the end of the week, if not the day. She never thought she’d become that close to _Roger Taylor_ , her go-to-pretend-boyfriend.

It surprisingly worked for them because _she_ had a constant schedule.

…until she accepted the _Evita_ offer.


	16. First Date

"I forgot how mentally tiring it is."

"Braiding hair?" He asked. He was sitting on the floor in between Alice's legs as she sat on the couch he was leaning on.

"No, silly," she said, struggling to braid his unruly golden hair in a neat fishtail. "Recording a completely new set of songs."

"I suppose. At least I'm sure you don't fight as much."

"We don't fight at all," she chuckled. "Why do you think _you_ fight like you guys usually do, hmm?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He lightly pinched her calf, earning a slight flinch from the girl behind him.

She’d already filed a leave of absence from the academy one week ago to focus on her new project recording for the concept album of the musical _Evita_.

Her daily schedule hadn't changed drastically yet. The added travel time because of traffic, however, was exhausting. Midterms were coming up and she was cramming two hours worth of songs in her head. After a near collision when she nodded off on the road, she decided that it was best to take the bus and walk a few blocks instead. Thankfully, this particular night though, Roger decided to come pick her up from the studio and drive her home. And they had dinner together, as usual, and were now passively watching some Spanish soap opera on the telly because she said she needed to incorporate a bit of their accent in her role.

"So, someone asked me out today." 

She couldn't see his reaction, but she felt his scalp move towards her so she assumed that he raised his eyebrows.

 "Oh?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice small. "He's from my Electronics 119 class."

"And?" 

"And what?"

"Are you going to go on a date with him or not?"

She paused. She didn't know what to expect about what Roger's reaction would be if she brought up something like this. He sounded so emotionless. On one hand, he could be happy about the time when she finally opened herself up for romantic mingling because it meant that he was finally free from his "duties". On the other hand, he did put a lot of effort fending off guys from even approaching her in social events. And for what? For those efforts to be put in vain?

"I suppose I need to start dating now. I don't want to grow old a spinster. I can't keep pretending to be your girlfriend forever."

 "Old?" He scoffed. "You're what? 21? Ali, you've got lots of time."

He craned his neck to smirk at her, "And we can make it real if you want."

"Ugh," she forcefully turned his head to its original position so that she could redo the fishtail. "I'm serious, Rog. And you're just saying that because you're, like, 30 already."

"Oi!" He pinched her calf a little more forcefully, making her yelp. He lightly rubbed the spot after. "I'm not 30 yet, you snitch. I just turned 27. You were there at my birthday party."

She laughed. Roger had the same wild birthday party the previous month as he had the previous year. 

“You know, it’s funny ‘cause I talked to this red-headed babe that night and she asked me if we were really official. Apparently, she’s heard about us about two months ago but she saw me _hanging out_ with another girl around that same week, and then she saw you again at my party. So, she got confused,” he segued amusedly.

“What did you tell her?”

“Told her she needn’t worry about you.”

Oh, the playboy persona. It made her chuckle.

 “Then she kind of just left.”

“See?” 

“See what?”

“I’m being a cockblock,” she sighed. “Yeah, I think this date is a good thing.”

A beat of silence.

"I'm assuming you like this guy if you're starting to think about it then?"

He sounded gentle, a bit encouraging. It gave her a little more confidence.

"Yeah," she said, slightly unsure. "I suppose I fancy him. He's... a wallflower. A bit of a beanpole. But he's smart. And incredibly kind."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke up again, "Then go for it, Al. The bloke must have a superpower to make you even think about dates. And I think you've already grown enough, y'know, as a person, so you'll be fine." 

"You really think so?"

She felt him smile. "Yeah."

He threw his head back to rest on her lap. "And it's about time. You don't want to let yourself become a 22-year old virgin, right?"

She flicked his ear.

* * *

“So, how was your date?”

Alice found herself sitting in the studio lounge behind the desk three nights after that conversation with Roger, and the night after her said date with her classmate. It was already 9 in the evening, and the band was working late into the night again. Roger went straight to sit next to her on the couch when a coffee break was called.

“It was,” she paused, clearing her throat. “Otis was lovely.”

“His name’s _Otis_?” Roger asked in a deadpan, his tone slightly carrying repugnance.

“Alice on a date that _I_ don’t know about?” Freddie plopped on the couch on her other side, dramatically scrunching his face in mock hurt. “Have you replaced me with Roger here?”

“Did I just hear that Alice went on a date?” Brian called out from the other room, and they heard Deacy’s muffled voice affirming the guitarist’s question.

“Yes!” Alice exclaimed, sitting up. “Yes, I went on a date.”

“Well, tell us about it, dear,” Freddie said gently, barely containing the pride in his voice. “Please don’t tell me you ghosted him by sneaking out through the bathroom.”

Roger chuckled. Alice rolled her eyes.

“No, I did not do that. We… actually had a great time together.”

Wrong.

It was awkward. She couldn’t count the times that they ran out of things to talk about.

But the challenging look that Roger was giving her made her want to say something other than the truth.

“Really?” Roger pressed on, resting his head on his propped up hand on the back of the couch. “What was he like?”

He reminded her too much of Brian. He was kind. Except that he was utterly _awkward_. No other word for it. It was like he was afraid to actually talk to her.

“He was… easy to talk to. We have similar interests--”

“Wow, another creature that lives for music and numbers equally. I thought I found a rare gem when I met you, darling,” Freddie said in a deadpan.

“I bet he’s a virgin, too,” Roger commented, which earned a howl from the frontman.

“Oh, whatever,” she said, dropping the topic.

“Is there a next date then?”

She turned her head to tentatively look at Roger, who was staring back at her with his eyebrows raised and a hint of challenge and amusement in his eyes. She didn’t know why she felt so pressured all of the sudden. And this was supposed to be something that normal people go through, goddammit!

“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin up. “And this time I’ll ask him out.”


End file.
